Angel on My Shoulder
by Cara245
Summary: What would happen to Stephanie Plum if she actually listened to that little voice we all have that said "Hey, wouldn't it be a good idea if…?" Rated M for language and some mild smut. This is a Babe story, but Morelli isn't harmed too much.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

**AN 1: This is my first fanfic, so constructive criticism is always welcome. One thing that has always gotten to me about the books is Stephanie saying "It's not my fault!" and then the next chapter or book it's like the stalker, explosion, etc. never happened. In real life, most of us would have gotten some training after the first gunshot wound and/or would be in some serious therapy. So I started thinking, what would happen if she started to listen to that little voice that said "Hey, wouldn't it be a good idea if…."**

**AN 2: I start with a car explosion and an argument with Joe, which has been done a time or two. But bear with me – it's just a starting point on Stephanie's journey. I've outlined the story so my plan is a total of 7 or 8 chapters, with rest of the chapters corresponding to items on Stephanie's list.**

**Warnings: Mature rating for language, for now, though there may be some smut in later chapters. It's a Babe, but Morelli isn't really abused in this story. **

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Chapter 1: The beginning

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I've been thinking a lot lately. I know – it's pretty fudgin' unbelievable, as my friend Sally Sweet would say, but sometimes even the Bombshell Bounty Hunter has to take stock of her life.

It started a couple of months ago when my sister Valerie and her snuggle-umpkins decided they needed a romantic weekend in Amish country. Pretty scary, huh? The thought of Valerie and Albert Kloughn in the Jacuzzi suite of the Lancaster Inn was enough to send even my hormones on a permanent vacation, but the upshot was my mom watched Lisa and the baby and MA and Angie and I had a girl's weekend. We spent the whole weekend in our pajamas eating junk food and watching TV Land. It was a good time.

Anyway, during a 'Highway to Heaven' marathon, I started to wish that a guardian angel could just swoop in and fix my train wreck of a life. Of course, even if I did have a guardian angel, he wouldn't be caught dead in New Jersey.

But I did have one thought before I dropped off into a Chunky Monkey and Butterscotch Krimpett-induced coma. Didn't we all have a little angel on our shoulder letting us know what's what? I call mine 'Smart Stephanie' and I'll have to admit I've been ignoring her lately…

R&S~R&S~R&S

Smart Stephanie was screaming at me a week later. It was a typical pleasant summer day in Jersey, meaning that you could practically drink the air and my curls were extra crazy. The sun was shining and I bet even the birds were singing, though I couldn't hear them over the sirens as Trenton's finest made their way to the burning remains of my latest car – a mostly blue Ford Escape that I'd only made one payment on.

Yep, just another day in the life of Stephanie Plum.

With a sigh, I nudged my skip with the toe of my boot as the first cop on scene made his way over to me. Eddie and I used to trade lunches in grade school and he was married to my cousin, Shirley the Whiner. In the Burg, where we both grew up, that made us practically brother and sister, so he was nice enough to haul my very groggy skip to his feet.

"Just another day at the office, Steph?" He asked as he handed the skip off to a couple of Rookies I didn't know.

"You're a real funny guy, Eddie," I grumbled as I showed my capture paperwork to the rookies. "This is Melvin Brubaker, arrested for flashing his wiener during Friday night Bingo at Sacred Heart."

Eddie snorted. "Let me guess, he forgot his court date and let you know how he felt about rescheduling?"

I rolled my eyes. "Something like that." The next few minutes went like usual. The Fire Department hosed down my ride, and I finished giving my statement to Eddie. The rookies were just escorting my skip to their cruiser when Joe Morelli's unmarked police issued POS screeched to a stop next to the curb.

Joe is my sometimes boyfriend and I have to admit he's easy on the eyes. He has one of the best asses in Trenton, but unfortunately sometimes he acts like one, too. We were currently in an on phase of our relationship, but going by the shade of purple he was turning, I figured that was about to change.

"What the hell, Cupcake?" He yelled as headed toward me.

I sighed again. "It wasn't my fault, Joe."

"Like Hell," he muttered. "It's never your fault, is it?"

"What do you mean?" I wasn't quite to full Rhino mode yet, but I was getting close.

"For Christ's sake, look around you, Steph." Joe raked his hands through his hair. "It's the same as always – you screwed up another take down, and I got half a dozen calls before ladder 13 over there could even put out the flames."

Usually about this time, I would yell back and we'd spend the next few minutes trading insults. Then I'd storm off and we wouldn't talk for a week or two. But something, maybe it was Smart Stephanie, stopped me. I looked around.

It was like an out of body experience, and I didn't like what I saw.

Joe was pacing around in a circle, gesturing wildly. He was still yelling, but I tuned him out. Over by the smoking remains of my car, Crazy Carl and Big Dog were joking around with a couple of firefighters and I was pretty sure money was changing hands. I wasn't too crazy about the whole betting on every aspect of my life thing.

At some point, a familiar Porsche and Hummer had shown up. Knowing Ricardo Carlos Manoso, AKA Ranger, I wouldn't be surprised if they had just magically popped into existence behind Joe's unmarked. Tank, Ranger's right hand man, had stopped to talk to the cops. And the man himself? He was headed straight toward me.

Ranger is in one word, a bad-ass. He's a better bounty hunter than I'll ever be, his cars and wardrobe come in only one color – basic black – and he is a man of few words and even fewer facial expressions. He'd once told me I was a line item in his budget under entertainment, which hurt more than I'll ever admit. But I knew two things about him: He would always show up to check on me and he wouldn't yell. He stopped about two feet from me as his gaze slowly swept over me.

"Babe." That one word could mean a hundred things, and I didn't always have my decoder ring handy. Today, I was pretty sure he was asking how I was.

"I'm OK," I answered, suddenly feeling about a hundred years old. "I wasn't anywhere near the car when Melvin threw the Molotov cocktail."

He nodded once and inclined his head toward the police cruiser that was pulling away from the curb.

"I got the skip anyway." I smirked. "He met an unfortunate accident with the neighbor kid's tricycle." Bless the little ankle biter for leaving it out. Ranger's lips twitched slightly, which on any one else would translate into a full on belly laugh.

"Proud of you." He inclined his head toward the Turbo.

"I'd love a ride," I said, as I hitched my messenger bag over one shoulder. I might be a walking disaster, but I'd learned to never leave my purse in the car. I'd just turned to follow Ranger when Joe grabbed me by the arm.

"Hey, I was talking to you!" Judging by the bulging vein over one eye, it was more like he was still yelling.

"Can we skip the rest of the argument if I agree that this is indeed a f'd up mess?" I sighed yet again, but managed to keep my voice level. "Joe, it's not even 10 AM and I'm already really tired. I'll catch up with you later."

I pulled away and he let me. I'd probably shocked him and everyone else, going by sudden silence that descended over the crime scene and Joe's dropped jaw. Heck, I shocked me. I decided to just go with it and leave while I could. But Joe's last shouted comment followed me for a long, long time.

"You're an embarrassment, Cupcake!"

R&S~R&S~R&S

Sitting in Ranger's Porsche 911 Turbo is the next best thing to sex. The leather seat cradled me like a lover and the car smells just like him, which is good enough to make my hormones do the mambo at the worst of times. However, that day I couldn't enjoy it because I couldn't get Joe's words out of my head.

"I'll have someone drop a car off for you."

Okay, that was enough to snap me out of my funk. No way. "Please, don't," I pleaded. "I'll never escape the bad Karma if I blow up another one of your cars."

Ranger's lips twitched again, but his expression was solemn as he stopped for a light. "Cars are replaceable, you're not."

I'd heard this before, but it never failed to choke me up. I managed a wobbly smile. "Thanks, but could you drop me at my parents' instead? No one's using Big Blue right now." Uncle Sandor's 1953 Buick Roadmaster was hardly inconspicuous, but it was free and it could take a beating.

Ranger nodded and took the turn for my Mom and Dad's. "Okay, Babe, Big Blue is the next best thing to a tank, anyway."

Huh, Ranger humor. Five minutes later, I was walking up my parents' driveway as the Turbo ghosted away from the curb. Normally, I'd text Grandma to meet me outside with the keys, but since I'd turned off my phone at the scene of the crime, I decided to do the semi-responsible thing and let my Mom know I was still alive.

Grandma met me at the door. "Ain't this a pip? We had to turn the ringer off on the phone already."

I groaned. "Mom's ironing already, isn't she?" The Burg grapevine never rests. With my luck the whole thing was already on youtube.

"Yep, but she just knocked back a couple, so she should be feeling pretty mellow right now."

I know it's wrong to be thankful to Jack Daniels and Southern Comfort, but I was. I poked my head into the kitchen, assured my Mom I was fine and promised to come to dinner in a couple of nights. I grabbed the car keys from Grandma after promising to drop her by the Clip N' Curl on my way back home. She didn't need her hair done, but Grandma could never sit on prime gossip. I love her, so I really don't mind that my crazy life keeps her supplied.

I was sprawled out on my couch with a tub of Ben and Jerry's by 11 AM. I just couldn't get what Joe said out of my head. Was I really an embarrassment? Well, I'm from New Jersey, so even if I was, I was bound by state law to not give a crap.

Now, I wasn't sure how I felt about my on-and-off boyfriend _telling _me I was an embarrassment, but I decided to think about that later. Yeah, I know it sounds like I was headed straight for Denial Land, but for once I wasn't. I made a firm date with myself to figure me and Joe out – just as soon as I figured out what I was going to do about my job. So – maybe in a year or two – right?

Was it really my fault that my FTA chucked a Molotov cocktail at my car? Well, no. That kind of crazy was all on him.

But, I had to be honest, if only to myself. I'd had Melvin's file for three days. The first time I showed up at his door, he was still half drunk from the night before and if I'd bothered to charge my taser, I might still be driving something smaller than a baby whale. The second time, he'd outrun me. The third time, he was waiting for me, homemade incendiary device in hand.

I liked to say I wasn't the best Bond Enforcement agent (BEA) out there, but I got the job done. Maybe it was time to examine that statement. The first question was: did I want to keep doing the job, or did I make my mother a very happy women and go see if the button factory was hiring? That answer came pretty easily. Most days I liked my job. I never had to wear panty hose and it was never boring.

The next question was whether or not I was really getting the job done? That was a little harder to answer. I finished my pint of Half-Baked and rummaged around in my kitchen for lunch. I found some raisins and a box of TastyKakes in the cupboard. My hamster, Rex, got the dried fruit.

"Hey buddy," I said to him as I dropped his lunch into his bowl. "Do you think I need more training?" Rex stuffed a couple of raisins into his cheek pouch and darted back into his soup can. Huh. He was never much of a conversationalist, but I could have sworn he twitched his whiskers at me.

I decided to take that as a yes. I grabbed another Butterscotch Krimpett and sat down with pen and paper. Making lists wasn't a Burg or Stephanie Plum – approved decision making tool, but my friend and occasional wheel-man Lula had been listening to a lot of self-help books on tape lately. List making seemed to be a common starting point on all of them, so I was willing to give it a try.

Three hours later, I'd mapped out what looked like a reasonable plan of action and I was on my way to the Y for their monthly free self-defense class. I had to start somewhere, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun. I've proofread, but all mistakes are my own.**

AN: I'd like to thank everyone who's taken the time to read this story, and I'd like to extend a big thank you to everyone who has left a review. This fandom has some great fans. This chapter deals with Stephanie's thoughts as she starts training. In Chapter 3 we'll hear from Morelli and Helen.

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Chapter 2

_Item 1- Learn some takedown moves that don't involve my knee and someone's family jewels_

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Three weeks after my Escape went to Car Heaven, my master plan was going well. Well, I was still on step one, but I was working on it. That's what matters right?

I had gone to the self-defense class at the Y that first evening and really hit it off with the instructor. Francine was my Mom's age and reminded me of my Grandmother – if Edna Mazur was a potty-mouthed former Army Sergeant instead of a potty-mouthed retired Burg housewife _and _wore her hair in a sensible bob instead of pink-tinted sausage curls.

She'd recognized me from the papers and took me aside after class. We'd shared a bucket of chicken and it was…. interesting. I couldn't remember the last time someone asked me what I want wanted, even if it was just out of a self-defense class.

So, I told her. She listened, and next thing I know Francine was offering to trade some one-on-one training for a little help with a somewhat delicate matter. I was cool with the quid-pro-quo. Sometimes all I have is my pride, and I hate being a charity case.

It seems that her former son-in-law, Mike, was not only a lying, scum sucking cheat, but he was forgetful, too. As in he forgot to pay child support and forgot to leave a forwarding address for the courts. It took me a week, but I finally found him holed up in Camden, where I staked out his weekly poker game. As luck would have it, the scum-sucker plays poker with Connie's first cousin, who I recognized from some wedding or another. Sometimes it's good to have friends who are so, er, well-connected.

Jimmy Rosolli may break kneecaps for a living, but he pays his child support on time every month and he can't stand guys who won't. Jimmy assured me the limp won't be permanent and Mike coughed up the back child support. I felt only slightly guilty about the whole thing and no one had to pay extra lawyer's fees, so I called it a win.

So, Francine and I have met every Monday, Thursday and Sunday for training at the gym she owns with her family. I'd been afraid that I'd spend the first couple of months doing karate drills, but Francine believes in a more applied approach, so she enlisted her youngest son's help. Peanut is 6 feet, 3 inches and 250 pounds of solid muscle and is a pretty good stand-in for one of my skips, even though he's smarter and saner than most them. He and Francine have helped me work out counters to just about every situation I've found myself in, especially the really embarrassing ones.

The skip grabs me by the purse strap or hair? We spent two nights on that alone. Skip takes my gun? Francine has promised me that she will tie me up outside of Macy's in my underwear if I let it happen, but we spent a couple of sessions on that, too. We even set up an obstacle course in her kitchen and I spent the evening dodging garbage and thrown vegetables. Hey – it's happened before, way too many times.

I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but even though I'd actively sought the help, I wasn't all the way with the program at first. It was the second night and Peanut had just dropped me to the floor, again.

"What's with the pansy-assed attitude, Plum?" Francine snarled from where she was watching the 'wipe the floor with Stephanie show.' "He's leaving you openings wide enough to drive a tank through for Christ's sake. Why won't you attack?"

"It's too hard, dammit," I whined. "And I don't want to hurt him."

Francine swore and sent Peanut on a break. "Listen, I'm about to go all Army on your ass, so brace yourself," she said as she slapped a bottle of water into my hand. "Do you want to do this job or not?"

"Yes." I'd already thought that through a few days before, right after Morelli called me an embarrassment. I gulped some water and wished for a Boston crème.

"Fair enough." She nodded. "Now for the second question – just how many of these bail jumpers come in all nice and quietly?"

Huh. Pretty good question. "Maybe a quarter, I guess."

She looked thoughtful for a second. "Let me see if I've got this straight. You've got a whole bunch of lawbreakers, and most of them don't think twice about hurting you to avoid going back to jail?" I started to disagree, but she cut me off. "I can see those bruises on your arms, Plum. They'd better be from a skip and not your man or I'll have to send Peanut and Petey after him."

Petey was Peanut's only slightly smaller older brother. I don't know what she fed her kids, but they looked like defensive linemen, even the girls.

"Bet your ass, I do," she agreed when I told her she had a point. Then she went into drill sergeant mode. "It seems to me I'd want to avoid getting hurt if I were you. It's time to shit or get off the pot, so I ask you, what is your problem, Plum?"

I opened my mouth to let her know she was my problem, and Smart Stephanie told me to close it again. Put that way, it was kind of stupid to keep doing the job without being prepared.

"I guess…" It suddenly came to me. "Phyllis Walter's daughter doesn't go around hitting men and putting them in handcuffs." I groaned. "Crap, I've been trying to be _nice _this whole time." I might be a semi-tough BEA, but waaay down deep I'm still a Burg girl.

She nodded. "Same crap I went through when I joined up. Good girls don't shoot guns and they don't sign up for the Military Police." Francine helped me up off the floor. "There's nothing wrong with being a nice person, Steph, but you just gotta know when to protect yourself. Be prepared for every bail jumper to fight you and you'll be hauling them in right and left before you know it."

It wasn't quite that easy, but once I applied myself, I could see the improvement. After the fourth lesson, when a FTA tried to push me out the door, I managed to kick his legs out from under him and I had him stunned and cuffed before he could grab me again.

After the fifth session, when Monica Selznik tried to grab me by the hair, a move she's been using since Junior High, I got her in a head lock and dropped her. I didn't go in swinging or anything and I still delivered my standard spiel about rescheduling their court date, but I was slowly getting to the point where I could handle it if the skips were feeling uncooperative.

Of course, that same week I rolled in garbage and was outrun by a sweaty, overweight plumber out on bond for a drunk and disorderly. I'd gotten him the next day, after liberally dousing his back patio with some old fryer grease from Cluck in a Bucket. He went down like a ton of bricks. Don't laugh, it worked for Rockford once.

All in all, things were looking up. I'd gotten most of my skips on the first try and it looked like I was going to make rent.

R&S~R&S~R&S

_Item 2: Get my gun out of the cookie jar_

When I first started bounty hunting for my Cousin Vinnie, Ranger made sure I had handcuffs and a gun, saying that if I was going to do the job, I needed the right tools. That's a philosophy he obviously lives by, judging by the fact that he's never without two guns and a knife and boatload of Kevlar.

Ranger has tried in many subtle and unsubtle ways to keep me armed – he keeps an extra gun for me in his glove box, and I've lost count of the number of tasers and cans of mace I've found in my purse. He may not want a relationship with me, but he cares.

Despite Ranger's efforts, I've spent the last four years relying on luck a lot more than preparation. Since Melvin Brubaker chucked a flaming bottle at my car, I've never gone anywhere without two fully charged tasers. But facts are facts.

I. Really. Hate. My. Gun. Which explains why I'd spent the last twenty minutes parked in front of Sunny's gun shop, staring down at said gun. I had almost psyched myself into going in when someone rapped on the window of my new (to me) Corolla. It had a whole lot of miles on it and some dents, but it was paid for.

I almost jumped out of my skin, but then I looked up into a familiar face. Eddie Gazarra took my lack of screaming as an invitation and folded himself into the passenger seat.

"Hey Steph, how's it going?" He asked, nodding at the revolver in my lap. "I'm going to assume that this creepy staring at your gun thing is part of your self-improvement campaign and that you're not planning on offing yourself."

"Jeez, Eddie, no way." I narrowed my eyes at him as I stuffed the pistol back into my bag. "Who told you about my self-improvement plan?" No one except Francine and Peanut knew, and I didn't think they'd snitch.

He rolled his eyes at me. "No one, but you're seen going into a gym a couple of times, people notice. Then, when you start hauling in skips without a speck of garbage in sight, I notice."

I shot him a level ten Burg death glare. "Jeez, is nothing a secret around here? I suppose you know what color undies I bought at Victoria's Secrets last week."

The tips of Eddie's ears turned pink. "Christ, if that's common knowledge, the guys know better than to tell me." He gave my arm a squeeze. "I'm real proud of you, Steph, and just wanted to let you know that I'm in if you need any help."

Eddie and I have known each other forever, so hearing that he was proud wasn't quite as major as if it were coming from a certain Bad-ass in black, but it still meant a lot.

Normally 'help' is a four letter dirty word in my book. Usually, the only offers I get are out of pity (Ranger), for helping me to get a new job (Morelli and my Mom), or for helping to get and keep a man (Mom).

But again, facts are facts. I needed help. Trading my skills for some self-defense lessons had worked out OK, so maybe….

I shot Eddie a mock-stern look. "OK, but I don't have to do a whole lot of babysitting for your demon kids, do I?"

Eddie laughed and shook his head. "Nah, but I'd really appreciate it if you could watch them for our Anniversary next week."

So we went inside and shot at some targets. Once he convinced me to keep my eyes open, I was hitting the paper men pretty consistently. After a few minutes, Eddie disappeared and came back with a holster.

"You're not a bad shot, you just have to get comfortable carrying around your gun," he said as he helped me strap on the revolver.

I made a face as he had me make some practice draws. "I don't think I'll ever get used to it." I looked over at him. "Hey, you didn't like guns growing up." Unlike the rest of neighborhood boys, Eddie never had an air rifle or played cops and robbers, so his joining the Trenton PD was a surprise back in the day.

"I wanted to help the neighborhood and City benefits aren't bad." Eddie shrugged. "The gun is a tool. If being armed means I can do my job and increases my chances of coming home to my family, I'd strap on a Bazooka."

"Huh." OK, my pal Eddie had a point. I looked thoughtfully down at my gun. "Maybe."

He nodded. "Food for thought, huh? Look, Steph, if you want, I can help you get the permit to carry." He snorted. "I don't know why Joe hasn't helped you, because just pulling the police reports from the last year alone would be grounds for concealed carry."

"I won't say no." I gave Eddie a hug and put my ear protectors back on. "How about another couple of rounds?"


	3. Chapter 3

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**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun. I've proofread, but all mistakes are my own.**

**Happy Fourth of July! I'm off to the beach!**

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Chapter 3

_Item X__6X __3. Get my personal sh*t together_

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Five weeks after my Escape went to the great big junkyard in the sky, my takedown skills were steadily improving. Since beginning training with Peanut and Francine, I'd managed to bring in eight drunk and disorderlies, two aggravated assaults, a guy who held up the local Stop N' Shop, and one Budgie DeLuca, who was in violation of his bond agreement after being picked up for shooting out the drive through menu board at Circus Burger. Apparently he really hated clowns. And I'd done it clean and quick.

I still hated my gun, but I was carrying it with me everywhere. Admittedly, it had been unloaded the first week, but I'd eventually graduated to real bullets. Ranger must have noticed because a custom shoulder bag with a concealed holster showed up on my kitchen table one day.

Sure, there were setbacks – like when I had to take in a repeat offender, Punky Balog. I don't think even Francine and Ranger together could come up with an effective take down strategy for a hairy naked guy who likes to grease himself up with Vaseline.

But as well as things were going professionally, my personal life was in a holding pattern. I'd managed to avoid Morelli for a few days until both of our tempers cooled. Since then we'd shared a couple of pizzas and I'd gone to his place for a ballgame, but there had been no sleepovers. We weren't exactly off, but I just couldn't seem to get me or my hormones interested in being on-again.

The problem was, once I started listening to Smart Stephanie, she just wouldn't shut up. Smart Stephanie is an annoying bitch because she won't let me retreat into Denial Land.

My love life is a hot mess. I won't admit it to anyone but myself, but I love two men.

Joe Morelli is a Trenton Police detective and on paper he's perfect for me or just about any woman, for that matter. He's six feet of Italian-American hunkiness, he has a good job, a house, and a dog. He also shares my love of cold beer and piping hot pizza. We grew up in the same neighborhood and we share a lot of history – some of it good. It's the bad that I've been thinking a lot about lately.

I've always been drawn to Joe, which explains why I gave up my virginity to him on the floor of the Tasty Pastry when I was 16. It's not that my first time was bad, because it was decent. It was the morning after that wasn't so great. Joe left for the Navy the next day, but not before writing about our encounter in half of the men's rooms in town. He was gone, and I lost my summer job and my reputation all in one day.

I got my revenge two years later, when the front bumper of the car I was driving just happened to meet his leg. Yeah, Yeah – the vehicular assault was maybe a little overkill, but it was only a simple fracture. I can be a vindictive be-yotch sometimes.

Years later, he was my first big skip. I brought him in, and helped him clear his name of a murder charge in the process. We started dating after that and it was mostly good – except when we argued or one of my cars blew up. Joe's never quite accepted my job.

Ricardo Carlos "Ranger" Mañoso is my opposite in many ways. He's ex-Army Special Forces, though sometimes I wonder about his trips out of town. Lula was the first to notice that there's a coup in a Third World country every time he goes into the wind. Regardless of his military status, he's part owner of RangeMan, a successful security business with branches in four cities. Ranger's cars are new, expensive and black and his suits are Italian. He's in incredible shape and eats nothing but twigs and berries.

I can barely make rent most months, and I've never met a fried food I didn't like. Even with another year of training I won't be a bad-ass. I'm just not wired that way and I don't want to be.

But on the other hand? Ranger is a second generation Cuban-American and six feet of pure yum. His nearly black hair is like silk, and his skin is the exact shade of a Starbuck's mocha latte. His attitude screams danger, but when he smiles, it is pure magic.

He's magic in bed, too. Over the years, he's been my mentor, co-worker and occasional lover. We slept together once when Morelli and I were on a long break, and a few times since when Morelli and I were trying out a non-commitment agreement. I'm not proud of that part, but it is what it is. In the dark of night, I have to admit I'd like us to be more, but he's told me that he doesn't do relationships and my Catholic guilt won't let me do booty calls.

Ranger's said a lot of crap to me, but we've gone to the wall for each other time and time again. He's pulled me out of more scrapes than I count and he's jumped off a bridge for me. I've faced more than one homicidal maniac for him and I'd do it again. He's my best and truest friend, even though I couldn't tell you what his favorite color or movie is.

R&S~R&S~R&S

I was mostly content to ignore my relationship troubles until one day at lunch.

Vinnie was on vacation at the State Fair (he really likes the animal exhibits- enough said), so Connie, Lula, my high school friend Mary Lou and I ordered in a bunch of Thai and put the closed sign on the door of the bond's office.

Naturally, we started talking about men. Connie, the office manager, likes them young. Lula just likes men. She's a former ho and current file clerk/ assistant bounty hunter. Lula's very frank about sex – probably due to her former profession.

"And girl – Charles is hung!" She fanned herself with the purple feather boa that she'd paired with a pink sequined mini-dress. "I'm tellin' you there ain't nothing like riding a big strapping man like a pony, am I right, or am I right?"

Connie and Mary Lou nodded, but I held up my hands and pleaded the Fifth.

"Hunh. You ain't no fun, white girl." Lula grumbled, then turned her attention toward Mary Lou. "I thought Lenny was your one and only – like ever!"

Mary Lou smirked. "Yeah, but Lenny has….depths."

I'd heard about those unexpected depths in way too much detail before, but I'd always been curious about one thing. "Mare, you were just as boy-crazy as I was in high school, so how did you….?" I didn't know how to finish the sentence, but Mary Lou knows me.

"Know he was the one, or how did I settle for the whole housewife thing?"

I shrugged. "Both, I guess."

Mary Lou grabbed another forkful of Pad Thai, her expression thoughtful as she chewed. "I have Lenny, three kids and a mortgage because that's what I always wanted. Lenny's the one because he gets me. He doesn't care that I'm a real bitch before my first cup of coffee or that my stuffed cabbage will never be as good as his mother's. He just loves me." She grinned, then. "It doesn't hurt that he's hung like a bull, either!"

We all shrieked with laughter, but Mare's words made me a little jealous. Had anyone ever 'gotten me'?

R&S~R&S~R&S

I'd been thinking a lot, but what really made me move figuring out my and Joe's relationship to the top of my list happened the day after the lunch with the girls.

It was another muggy summer day and I was sitting on the curb with another skip handcuffed to my wrist, waiting for Fire and Rescue – again.

This time, Joe pulled in right behind the fire trucks. Ladder 8 headed for the house fire and Joe headed straight toward me.

"What the hell did you do now?" He gestured wildly from me to the towering inferno at our backs.

I sighed. "Joe, it's not like that." And it wasn't. Jesus Rodriguez had been picked up for carrying concealed and had missed his court date. Half the state of Jersey and my Grandma carries concealed without a permit. I did, too, until very recently, so that wasn't the big deal. However his neighborhood, just off Stark Street, seemed off, so I'd decided to watch the house for a bit. I was barely into my first bag of cheese doodles when the skip suddenly came running out his front door with his shirt on fire. Huh – so that's what a Meth lab looks like.

"Joe, I can explain." I tried to cut in, but Joe continued to pace in circles and yell.

"I don't want to hear it this time, Cupcake. Do you know how much property damage this is?"

"Yo, _esé_, chill out." Jesus piped up. "The _chica_ here didn't have nothin' to do with nothing, except she maybe saved my life." We both stared at him for a long second. You know what they say, when a felon is the voice of reason…. That's just messed up.

"Just remember stop, drop and roll from now on, Jesus." Luckily, we'd landed behind a tree and a parked car so the worst of the blast had missed us. I hauled him to his feet. "Let's go get you checked out."

I looked back at Morelli as we headed toward the paramedics. He was staring after us, red faced and muttering. "I'll be right over there, Joe."

While one paramedic treated Jesus for second degree burns, the other slapped a couple of bandages on me and poked at my scraped elbows. I'd turned Jesus over to police custody so I was free to give my statement to Big Dog.

I'd given him the quick recap with a promise for a follow-up interview later when the back of my neck started to tingle. Only one man affected me like that.

When I turned, there he was, striding straight toward us. I've always called him Batman, and he was in full Dark Knight mode today. The cops and rescue workers got out of his way and even Morelli couldn't stop him.

"Babe." Now, I'd seen Ranger a couple of times in the last few weeks. Once, for a particularly panty-melting and guilt-inducing kiss behind the bonds office and then again when he'd stopped by my place one evening with a bag from Pino's. I'd been having trouble with a skip, so I swallowed my pride and asked him to look at the file. We'd eaten subs (well, he had a salad), and he'd helped me plan the takedown without offering to take the skip away from me.

As nice as that dinner was, his hug in the middle of that crime scene was ten times better. I let myself burrow into his Bulgari-scented chest for a few seconds before pushing away.

He brushed one finger over the bandage at my temple. "You OK, Babe?"

I nodded. "I'm fine, just some scrapes and cuts from flying glass." Ranger tucked me into his side and we'd just turned to leave when I heard a throat clear behind us. It was Morelli and he wasn't happy.

"Cupcake. Mañoso." I could tell he was fighting to keep his voice level around Ranger. "You haven't finished giving your statement yet."

Since he could do it, I bit back the angry words that threatened to come out of my mouth. "I have an appointment at the PD at 9 AM tomorrow morning."

"We haven't finished, either." His jaw clenched. "I have a lot to say to you."

I did too, but not here. "You're working tonight, right?" At his nod, I continued. "I'll bring dinner by your place tomorrow."

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding as Joe got into his car and burned rubber as he pulled away from the curb. I looked around and my anger came bubbling toward the surface again.

I marched over to where another cop was handing Carl some cash. "Is that from a bet on me?"

Carl ducked his head, and I held out my hand. "I want half, right now." I looked around to the loose knot of cops and firefighters that surrounded us. "Pass the word, if I hear about another bet on my life, I'm starting a betting pool on all of you with all of the Burg ladies"

I paused as I stuck the twenties into my front pocket. "Instead of car explosions, we'll be betting on the size of your junk and whether or not you can get it up."

No one said a word as Ranger steered me toward Tank's Hummer, though Robin Russell and Eddie high-fived me.

R&S~R&S~R&S

"My car's OK," I said as he settled me into the front seat. The Corolla had a new dent on its hood from some flying debris, but miraculously it was intact. Note to self: always park across the street and two houses down from suspected drug labs.

Ranger cut his eyes toward me. "I know, Babe. I just need to see you for a few more minutes. Tank'll follow us."

Ranger's words turned my insides to mush, but the thought of someone Tank's size squashed into my compact car had me giggling. Then I remembered the last hour or so and started to shake.

Next thing I knew, we were pulled over and I was in Ranger's lap. I let his warmth seep into me as he rubbed soothing circles into my back. "That was something else," I mumbled against his chest.

I felt him nod against my shoulder. "I didn't know what to think when the control room placed your car at the scene of that Meth Lab explosion."

I pulled back a little to look him in the eyes. I was startled to realize that he didn't have his blank face in place for once. He was tight lipped and maybe a little pale. Holy cow, I'd broken Batman! "Hey, I'm OK," I promised.

"I don't know if it was the tin foil on the windows or what, but I decided to stake out the house first." My grin was wobbly. "Jesus was so grateful that I put his flames out that he didn't even resist arrest."

I got an answering grin – not a full 200 watter, but close enough. "Proud of you."

We sat like that for a couple of minutes, and then I scooted back over to the passenger seat. I looked at the dashboard clock. It was a quarter 'til six and I hadn't texted Grandma to let her know I was OK, yet.

"Could you drop me at my parents'?" I asked. "The lasagna won't be dried out if we hurry."

Ranger just shook his head. "There's no way I can convince you to let Bobby check you over, is there?"

I wasn't concussed and the paramedics had cleared me, so no. But I promised to text the Rangeman medic if anything started to hurt, and Ranger dropped me at my parents' with less than five minutes to spare.

R&S~R&S~R&S

Grandma met me at the door. Edna Mazur is seventy-two going on seventeen and looks ninety. Tonight she was wearing a red-striped tube top and a denim mini skirt. I want to grow up to be my Grandma one day, but I hope I don't inherit her sagging boobs.

"Your father's threatening to shoot the phone, it's been ringing off the hook for the last hour." She craned her neck to check out Ranger as he and Tank loaded themselves back into the Hummer. "Hey, isn't that that hot bounty hunter?"

"Yeah." I hauled my weary self into the living room. "Where's Ma?"

"She's setting the table." Grandma leaned in and lowered her voice. "We're out of booze, so brace yourself."

Dinner went about how I expected. The garlic bread was extra buttery, no one touched the broccoli and my Mom wasn't happy.

"Stella Chesnik's daughter doesn't hang around criminals and I've never heard of Gina Giovichinni coming to the table with torn jeans and bandages," she raged between bites of dinner.

Any other time, I'd follow my Dad's example and keep my head down while shoveling in the food, but between Joe and the last month or so, I'd finally had it.

One thing I'd learned from Francine is that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, unless you changed the rules. If you yelled, someone would always yell back, so I waited until she paused for breath.

"Mom, do I embarrass you?" I asked, very quietly.

Her mouth dropped open with shock, Grandma hooted with laughter, and even Dad looked up. "Stephanie Michelle Plum, where did you get that idea?"

Grandma snorted. "If you'd stop being a horse's patoot and listen to yourself, Helen, you'd know."

Mom was tight lipped as she got up from the table. She returned a couple of minutes later with a triple chocolate torte. "I just hate hearing about your job, Stephanie."

"Because the neighbors talk and it's embarrassing?" I asked.

"No, it's because I hate it when you get hurt." She cut me an extra-large piece of cake, which was the same as a hug in our family. "Jeremy Mancini dresses in women's clothes and Laura Selznik's daughter has the Herpes, so who cares about embarrassing?"

Huh, who knew? "I'm sorry Ma, what if I told you I was trying to be safer?" We finished dessert in silence and I helped her clear the table. Grandma had a hot date for a viewing at Stiva's so we were alone in the kitchen.

"It's taken me a while, but I get it now. My job's not safe but I'm working on getting some training."

She tsked under her breath. "I just want you happy, Stephanie."

"Ma, eighty percent of the time, I am happy." And I was going to work on upping that number. I picked up a dishcloth and started drying. "What did I want to be when I was a kid?"

From the movement of her lips, I was pretty sure she was saying a rosary or something, but when she opened her eyes, her gaze was wistful. "You wanted to be a spy or some kind of super hero."

I gave her arm a quick pat. "Yeah, and I guess I never grew out of it.

She blew out a breath and straightened her spine. "You're my daughter and I love you. You'll take some extra lasagna and cake home with you."

I laughed then and for the first time in hours I felt like it was going to maybe be OK. "Sure Ma."

When I was leaving a few minutes later with my goody bag, she walked me to the door. "Are you sure you don't want to get married or work at the bank?"

I shook my head. "Maybe someday, but for now, how about I promise to always call to let you know I'm OK if you don't compare me to the neighbors' daughters?"

R&S~R&S~R&S

By the next evening, I was feeling a lot calmer. I'd spent most of the day holed up at my apartment, eating Ben and Jerry's and planning out what I needed to say to Joe.

I picked up meatball subs and headed over to Joe's place around 6:30. It was a cute little house on Slater St. that he'd inherited from an aunt. I'd spent a lot of time there over the years and I'd miss it if our talk didn't work out. Joe's dog, Bob, met me at the door in his usual frenzy of excitement. I made sure he had his own sub before going in to greet Joe.

Joe was tense but calm, too. We dug into dinner as we waited each other out. Joe broke and spoke first.

"I don't know if I can take your job anymore, Cupcake."

"Joe-" I opened my mouth to tell him about my training and the new safety measures I'd worked out the night before.

"No excuses, Steph." He cut me off. "Do you know how it feels for me to constantly get ribbed by the guys at work? Do you know how it feels for the Chief of Police to look at me like I'm some kind of idiot for not being able to control my girlfriend?"

I counted to ten as I searched for the right words. Anything we might have talked about was off the table. Permanently. "So tell me what would make you feel better, Joe." His expression instantly went from tense to smug. I wanted to shove my sub in his stupid face.

"I want you to quit bounty hunting and move in with me." He leaned back. "If you want to work, you can take your time to find something that suits you. Otherwise..."

"Wow, that's really generous of you." I widened my eyes. "What about after that- are you thinking about anything permanent down the road?"

It was his turn to look surprised. Idiot. "I didn't expect to talk about that yet, but we could get married if that's what you want. We're not getting any younger, you know, Cupcake."

Indeed. I pushed my plate back and calmly folded my hands in front of me. "What if I don't want to quit the bonds office? I've been working on my skills lately and I'm getting better."

Joe scoffed. "You don't have any skills, Stephanie." He held up a hand to placate me. "You're a great girl and I love you, Cupcake, but you just have to face facts."

Ouch. I narrowed my eyes at him. "So let me get this straight. Your ideal situation would be to get married and start a family? That's what you want?" At his nod, I got up and dumped the rest of my dinner into Bob's bowl.

"That's a good dream for you, Joe, but I'm just not sure it's right for me," I told him.

"Cupcake…."

"And that's part of the problem." I sighed. "Deep down I'll always be the girl you sweet-talked out of her virginity and you'll always be the boy I gave it up to on the floor of the Tasty Pastry. You know, I'm the cupcake that's soft and sweet and good to eat." It's all about trust and I suddenly realized that I did not completely trust Joe Morelli.

His expression hardened. "You just won't let that go, will you? Geez, Steph, It's not like I forced you or anything."

"I never said you did and it's really disturbing that you went there." I stood and picked my purse up off the floor. "I think this is it for us, Joe, we just don't want the same things."

He stood up so quickly his chair scraped against the floor. "What the hell do you want then?" Yep, there it was, smug to pissed-off in three easy steps. "I know a dozen women who'd jump at what I'm offering."

"I'm not them. I want someone who supports me and my dreams just like I support him." He snorted. "We fought about a lot of things, Joe, but name one time I put down your job or complained if you broke a date."

I finally let my inner rhino free. "I want someone who cares more about me than his reputation," I hissed. "Yesterday, when that drug lab blew, which for once was really, really not my fault by the way, did you even think to ask if I was OK? Carl, Big Dog, and a Rookie I didn't even know asked me if I was OK. Ranger came to check on me. Even my _skip_ asked if I was alright."

He just stood there, shaking and red-faced. I was sure I'd be bawling my eyes out in a few minutes, but right then, I was just numb. I made my way to the door.

"I'll leave your stuff and your key on the table while you're at work tomorrow. I'm sorry, Joe, but we're over. I hope you find what you're looking for."

The last thing I heard as I walked through the door was the sound of glass breaking.

* * *

**AN: Well – that was my version of the break up with Morelli. I never get tired of reading them and boy did I like writing it.**

**As for the talk with Helen – please don't hate me for soft balling it. I debated writing a whole smack down complete with 'Why Me's' and Stephanie never coming back for dinner, but I had to go back to my recollection of the Helen in the novels. Helen Plum is judgmental and whiny, but I think that she loves her daughter and ultimately wants her unhurt and happy. Her view of what that means is just narrow. She ran over a man in a rabbit suit in book 8 because he was chasing Stephanie and she always sends her home with leftovers. It's pretty messed up, but it's still love, I think. **

**This concludes the first half of my story. There will be lots of Ranger and the Merry Men in the second half. Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun. I've proofread, but all mistakes are my own.**

**AN: **_Italics= Flashback._

**Thanks again for all of the great reviews and support for my little story!**

* * *

Chapter 4

Item 4: Get in good enough shape to outrun a seventy year old. Giving up Pino's and TastyKakes is not an option!

* * *

A couple of weeks after the Plum-Morelli split (as they're calling it in the Burg), my life had settled into a new kind of normal.

I'd cried myself to sleep that first night, then gotten up around mid-morning to pack up my stuff from Joe's place and tell Bob goodbye. When I'd left his spare shaving kit and key in his kitchen, I felt….. free. The fact that I wasn't completely devastated bothered me more than the actual break up. Sure, I'd miss Joe, but I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from me.

Joe hadn't bothered to return my key, but my Dad volunteered to change my locks.

"I never liked him, anyway," he grunted. "That Morelli boy was always eyeing my dessert." Dad patted my shoulder as he left. "I got you the good locks, supposed to be bump-proof."

My Mom didn't take the news of our break-up as well, but when I told her about the whole "you're an embarrassment" debacle, she settled down a little.

"We'll find you someone better," she sniffed. "When you're ready," she added hastily when I narrowed my eyes at her.

Well, I couldn't expect miracles overnight. At least she hasn't 'accidentally' invited someone's cousin or nephew to dinner yet and I haven't heard a single "Louise Francini's daughter doesn't…" in weeks. She even sent my Dad over with a whole pineapple upside-down cake. Helen Plum understands that a good old-fashioned pity party takes some serious fuel.

I wasn't allowed to wallow for too long, though. Lula showed up with a bucket of margaritas and junk food the second night after the break up – right after Morelli was spotted at Pino's with Lisa Martinelli.

Francine let me miss exactly one training session before sending Peanut and his sister little Francine in after me.

"There are more cocks in the hen house, Plum," she told me at my first session as a single woman.

"Don't you mean fish in the sea?" I asked.

"Same difference. Drop and give me 10," she growled.

That was another big change that I was making. A couple of weeks after I'd met Francine, I'd complained about being outrun by another skip. Delbert Brinks was a real artist with spray paint, though I can see how the cops weren't partial to the improvements he made to a couple of squad cars. He also only had one leg. In my defense, those new prosthetics are amazing, and he's awfully wily.

Carl and Big Dog would have given me shit about being outrun by an amputee, Morelli would have told me I should just hang up my handcuffs, and Ranger would have shaken his head and said 'Babe'. Francine just shrugged and asked – "Ya wanna work on that?"

In exchange for my help finding Mike the scum-sucking ex, Francine had offered self-defense classes and a three month membership to her family's gym. I had no intention of using the membership, but her eight year old grandson double-dog dared me. For the record, spin classes are the work of the devil, Zumba is OK and I kind of like kickboxing. I still hate running, though I didn't mind how my jeans were fitting.

So that's how I ended up at the high school track nearest my apartment one morning. I was struggling through some sit ups when a pair of mocha-latte hands suddenly grasped my ankles. I stifled a scream, but finished my set. Ranger's hands were warm and sure, anchoring me to the ground even as his touch sent streaks of liquid fire straight to my doo-dah.

"Thanks for the assist," I gasped out as I started my stretches. I wasn't sure if it was the exercise or Ranger that was stealing my breath, but sit ups had never made my nipples hard.

"Looking good, there, Babe."

I rolled my eyes as I stood. "Very funny." My hair was scarier than usual and my shorts were holdovers from high school gym class.

"I like your shirt." Ranger's gaze was hot as it swept over his Rangeman T-shirt that I'd somehow acquired, and lingered on the holster at my waist. "And seeing you armed does things to me."

I gulped. "Things?"

He nodded as his arm stole around my waist and drew me close. "Serious things."

Holy ruined panties, Batman. Even through several layers of clothing I could feel just how serious that, er, thing was. I waited for the usual punch of guilt that came whenever Ranger got this close, but it was strangely absent. I guess I really was a free woman, now.

I stifled a moan and was leaning into him when Sergeant Cock Block made her presence known.

"Break it up, Plum!" Francine yelled from the sidelines. "No Tasty Pastry unless you get your ass in gear!" Oh yeah – Francine had a little incentive program going. I exercised, she bought the donuts. I wore my gun and I got a Boston Crème. It seems counter-productive, but it kept me exercising three days a week.

With a sigh, I started a slow jog around the track. Ranger kept pace with me. I glanced over. "You're not exactly dressed for running." He was in urban commando gear – boots, black cargos and a T-shirt that lovingly hugged his biceps and perfectly defined pecs. I wanted to be that shirt.

The corners of his mouth twitched. "Babe."

I decided that meant 'I used to run with fifty pounds on my back for a living.'

We finished the second lap and I stretched out again. "Hey, what brings you out here? Don't you work out at the butt-crack of dawn?" I asked.

"Haven't checked in with you in a while."

I blew out a breath as I started the hamstring stretches. "I decided I needed some training." I jerked my head toward Francine. "Sergeant Slaughter over there is pretty good at motivating me."

"And you did it all on your own. Proud of you, Babe." A warm glow spread through me at his words, but something in his voice had my spidey senses tingling. I looked up into his carefully blank face. Huh, vulnerable Ranger.

"She's not you, though," I told him. I'd always need Batman. "I've been meaning to talk to you about my training and a couple of other things." Ranger's face relaxed and I realized with surprise that I'd read him correctly. Wasn't that a sign of the apocalypse?

I took a deep breath; boy did I ever hate asking for help. "I have a proposition for you." I rolled my eyes at his wolf grin. "Not that kind. Can you meet me at the diner later?"

He nodded. "I have some client meetings, but I can shake some time loose around 1 PM."

I smiled. "Great, I'll buy you a big salad. With extra bark."

Ranger's lips spread into a full two-hundred watt grin – the kind that always made my brain short circuit and my knees weak. Even Smart Stephanie was no match for that grin.

I'd just swayed closer when his phone beeped and Francine's sweet motherly voice wafted across the track. I breathed a sigh of relief, Ranger kisses might be guilt-free, but they were still a major danger to my heart.

"Break time's over, sweet peas," she yelled. "You're not paying me to watch you sit on your ass, Plum. Get a MOVE on."

I rolled my eyes heavenward. "I'm not paying her anything. Yay, wind sprints." Ranger's chuckle followed me as I started my first set. Wind sprints are the work of the devil, too.

R&S~R&S~R&S

An hour later, I huffed and puffed my way into the lobby of my apartment block, a non-descript red brick building just off of Hamilton.

The elevator was actually working, and my neighbor, Mrs. Bestler, was playing elevator operator. "Second floor, housewares and ladies' lingerie."

I waved goodbye and let myself into my apartment. The bathroom and kitchen fixtures are vintage 1970's, which fits because most of the building tenants are over seventy. But the rent's cheap and it's that all-important couple of miles from my parents' street. I grabbed a water bottle and wandered over to my couch. My list was where I'd left it on the coffee table, heavily marked and amended since the first day I'd worked on it in a Morelli and Tasty-cake fueled frenzy. Come to think of it, I'd done most of the revising in another fit of Morelli-induced pique the night before our breakup.

I'd been inspired to add a couple of items after I realized that my Mom's main objection to my job was that it wasn't safe. Silly me to assume Joe felt the same way. But now, I realized that I was good with the changes to my plan. They felt right.

I showered, shaved and tamed my hair in record time. I even had time to slick on a couple of coats of mascara for courage before gathering up a folder from my kitchen counter. Rex was out of his soup can, so I stopped for a chat.

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing?" I asked as I dropped a couple of carrot sticks and a cheese doodle in his bowl. Rex stood up on his hind legs for a second before grabbing the cheese doodle and scurrying back into his can. "I think so, too, buddy. Good talk." I told him as I headed for the door.

I made it to the diner on Main Street just before one o'clock. Ranger was waiting for me in a rear booth with his back to the wall, as usual. We were mostly silent as we ordered and waited for our food, but it was comfortable. I never felt the need to talk just to fill in gaps of conversation when I was with him.

When I dug into my all-day breakfast special, I couldn't suppress a moan of appreciation.

"Babe."

I hid a grin. I'd made Ranger squirm!

"Hey, the pancakes are extra buttery." I gestured toward his plate. "Now that's just wrong, it looks like they forgot the dressing and croutons for your salad."

His lips twitched. "It's a temple day, Babe."

I took another bite of breakfast-y goodness and tried to gather my thoughts. Now, I know what you're thinking - why I do I not want to ask a favor of this man? Ranger is, according to me, my best friend. He's bled money and actual blood for me more than once, and I've destroyed more than one of his insanely expensive cars. That's part of the reason right there. I hate charity almost as much as I hate pity and my tab with Ranger Mañoso was already way too high.

The other… I bit back a sigh. Since I started my self-improvement plan, I've had to face way too many uncomfortable truths. I hate admitting I've made mistakes or that I need help because it's always opened me to ridicule. I'm that crazy Stephanie who jumps off of garage roofs, and graduated from burning meatloaf in Home-Ec to destroying cars and public property.

"Something's burning, Babe."

Ranger humor. "Just thinking about back-up." And I had been, ever since a conversation Eddie and I'd had at the gun range.

_"__Not bad, Steph," Eddie had said as he pulled in my target. "That Rook I've been partnering can't shoot that good."_

_I'd looked over at him. "Don't you hate having to have a partner?"_

_Eddie snorted. "Sure, right after burrito night." His gaze sharpened. "I don't think you're worried about Sammy's gas – what's up, Steph?"_

_"__Doesn't he drive you nuts when he second guesses you?" I bit my lip. "And what about the gossip?"_

_Eddie shook his head in disbelief. "Partners are there to back each other up so that we can go home and do it all over again the next day. And we don't tell tales." _

I decided to channel my inner Francine and 'man up.' Her advice to not yell '_cause that just makes the other guy yell back'_ had worked for me, so why wouldn't "_You won't get what you need if you don't ask for it'_?

I finally looked up at Ranger. "How many trackers do you have on me right now?" I shook my head at his raised eyebrow. "I'm guessing at least one on my car, right?"

He nodded slowly. "At least."

I suppressed a groan – I shouldn't be surprised that I'd have to do the talking. "I've been thinking, you're never going to pull the trackers or the guys who babysit me when I have a difficult skip, are you? Even though it makes you bleed money until your accountant cries?"

Something flashed across his face but was gone before I could name it. "Stephanie, I don't how else I can say it, but there is no price for your safety. Ever."

I swallowed, and reached over to pat his clenched fist. Huh, I'd broken Batman, again. "And I appreciate it." More than I could say.

"You won't stop helping me, so I propose to make it easier for you." I reached into my bag and pulled out a folder. "I've categorized every skip I've had for the last six months and noted some trends," I continued as I slid a spreadsheet toward him.

"What?" I bristled at his raised eyebrow. "I was a business major, you know." And tracking FTA's was a lot more interesting than tracking sales on granny panties like I'd done at my last job at E.E. Martin.

Ranger just shook his head. "You're blowing me away, Babe. You never disappoint."

OK, that was strange, but nice. "My skips fall into three categories. These I bring in with no problem," I explained as I pointed to the first column. "They're my regulars, shoplifters and little old men who like to flash their wieners."

I tapped another, longer list. "About half of my skips are still non-violent, but take a little more convincing before they'll go in to reschedule their court dates." Neither of us bothered to hide our grins. "But since I've been working on my garbage dodging and take downs, I've gotten a handle on them."

Ranger nodded, so I pushed the final list toward him. "These are the ones I wanted to talk to you about. These fine citizens are wanted for rape, assault, weapons charges or just plain craziness." These skips gave me nightmares, sometimes.

"A good friend once said you need someone to watch your back in this business.*" I took a deep breath. "So I was wondering if some of your guys would volunteer to back me up in their off hours, for half of the capture fee?"

"What does Morelli think about this plan?" Ranger asked.

I bit my lip. I'd hoped to avoid this part of the conversation. "Morelli doesn't have a say anymore. We're through."

Ranger's face was blanker than blank. "I'm sure you'll work things out."

Ouch. "I'm sure we won't," I said, looking him straight in the eye. "In the immortal words of Taylor Swift, we are never, ever, ever getting back together."

Ranger chuckled, then was quiet for a long minute. "Yes to the backup, but you keep the fee and they're on the clock."

"How is that different from what you do now?" I rolled my eyes. I'd half expected this. "OK. You want to be difficult, we'll negotiate."

"Babe." The corners of his lips twitched. "Liability issues. I gotta keep the lawyers happy."

"And I have to keep my pride," I muttered under my breath. "OK, for every hour the guys help me with my skips, I work an hour at RangeMan running searches and background checks." I knew the Merry Men hated office work.

"Two hours, and you take a couple of client meetings a week," he countered.

"One and half hours, one client meeting, and I don't wear panty hose," I told him. When he nodded, I glared at him through narrowed eyes. This was too easy. "I pick the skips RangeMan helps me with and no one tracks or babysits me when we're not going after those skips."

Ranger's mouth tightened ever so slightly. "Fine, but RangeMan backs you up on every skip within 5 blocks of Stark or Comstock, you carry a panic button and if you pick up a stalker, all bets are off."

I huffed out a breath. "Fine, but no safe houses."

Ranger grinned. "Babe, I wouldn't even try."

"We've got a deal." I stuck out my hand, but instead of shaking on it, he rubbed slow, sensual circles into my palm. Geez, even his thumb was magic. I took a long gulp of my soda. "I need pie." And maybe a cold shower. Extra sugar may not be enough to beat down Ranger-induced hormones.

A few minutes later, I dug into an extra-large piece of chocolate pie. "This is sooo good," I moaned. "You have to try this."

"Steph." He closed his eyes briefly and breathed deeply through his nose. I silently cheered. I'd made him squirm again!

"Babe, you said there were a couple of things you wanted to talk about."

"Oh, that," I said airily. "Just a little thing. You know how I've been training with Francine Schotsky?"

He nodded. "She might be the only one up for the job, Babe."

I threw my napkin at him. "Real funny. Anyway, she thinks I need a little cross-training. Can you recommend a sparring partner, someone really sneaky?"

"Babe." His grin was wolfish. "I'd be glad to spar with you."

Yeah, and if I wasn't careful I'd end up riding him like a pony. Ranger's eyes grew hot and dark. "I said that aloud, right?" I ducked to hide my blazing cheeks.

We were quiet for a few minutes. Ranger slipped into his thinking zone, and I finished my pie.

"Hector would be a good fit. He's the sneakiest bastard I know."

Most of Ranger's men were huge ex-military commandos who could bench press a small car. Hector was different. He was slender, mid-twenties and only a couple of inches taller than me. I'd heard he was deadly with a knife and he had two teardrop tattoos under his eye. I knew what those meant, but Ranger trusted him and that was good enough for me.

I smiled. "Hector scares me," I told him, repeating what I'd said the first time I met Hector.**

"Babe, he scares me sometimes, too." Ranger smiled back, and it was a full, beautiful 1000 watts.

Behind me, a tray crashed to the floor. I just shook my head. It wasn't the first time that smile had made a woman walk into a wall.

* * *

*Paraphrased from "One for the Money"

** "Hard Eight"


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun. I've proofread, but all mistakes are my own.**

* * *

Chapter 5

Item 5. Back up isn't for sissies

* * *

I went to RangeMan the day after Ranger and I met at the diner. I was pretty sure this deal wouldn't end up with us in bed like the last one, but I decided not to tempt fate by seeing Ranger too many times in one week. I waited until I thought he would be on client calls or out saving this fair city to go see his right hand man, Tank. You'd say I was being a chicken, I'd say I was just being smart.

Tank is about six feet, six inches, and built like his nickname. His mother had named him Pierre and I was pretty sure she was the only one who got to call him that. Tank has spent a lot of time guarding me over the years, so we're sort of friends. He woke up engaged to my friend Lula once, and he has three cats named Applepuff, Suzy and Miss Kitty.

The cat pictures in his office don't make him any less scary, though. I tried to not fidget as he stared at me across his desk.

"Boss wants you brought on as a contractor. I modified a standard hourly contract," he said as he pushed a stack of papers toward me.

I picked them up and flipped through the pages. "It says I work hours as mutually agreed. Can we put a weekly cap on them?" I asked. I trusted Ranger with my life, but I didn't want to get sucked into working full time for him again. I read through to the end, then pushed the contract away.

"Problem, Steph?" Tank's voice was gruff and deep as Barry White's.

"There's an hourly rate on there. A really high one." I said flatly. "We agreed this was a straight exchange – me working for back up."

Tank handed a second set of papers to me. "Read the second contract. We provide assistance with take downs to you for a set hourly rate." He shrugged. "Gotta keep legal happy."

I read it and pursed my lips. The numbers added up to my original agreement with Ranger. "OK, but only if all accounting is done internally, I don't need a check from RangeMan."

"No problem." Tank nodded and made a couple of changes to the first contract. "I gotta say the Boss wasn't happy about you paying for backup." He grinned. "You got some balls on you, Little Girl."

I wrinkled my nose. "That's kind of flattering, but really gross, Tank."

His laughter echoed off the walls. I glanced back through the first contract and noticed that the employee conduct section was blank. With a sigh, I pulled on my big girl panties and looked up at Tank. Being an adult is so damn hard sometimes.

"What are the requirements for my working here?" I asked.

Tank's eyebrows flew upward. "Come again?"

I tried and failed to suppress my patented 'Burg' eye roll. "I know there are employee standards, so just rip the band-aid off, Tank. How much am I expected to bench press and do I have to learn military jargon?"

Tank laughed again. "No wonder the Boss don't know what to do with you."

I didn't even try to figure that part out. I'd heard more words out of Tank the last few minutes than I usually did in a year, so I was already on information overload. I decided to just wait him out.

He finally composed himself. "It ain't as much as you think. Contractors wear the standard uniform in the office or in the field on RangeMan business."

"I'll wear it on days I come to the office, but if I get a line on a skip you're helping me with, I can't always stop to change." Tank nodded.

I thought for a second. "Can I get uniforms that fit this time?" Ella, RangeMan's housekeeper, was the eighth wonder of the world, so I was almost certain she wasn't responsible for the doll-sized T-shirts I'd worn last time I worked for Ranger. Or the RangeMan logo underwear that had pissed off Joe so much.

Tank made a note and continued. "Basic self-defense assessment is required, you carry on duty and log an hour of range time each week. You'll have access to the gun range in the basement."

I winced. I would probably always hate my gun, but on the bright side, Eddie had had me at the range two hours a week, so I was looking forward to slacking off. Except for wearing the latest in urban commando gear, Tank wasn't asking me to do anything I wasn't already doing. I wanted to argue with him just on principle, but Smart Stephanie told me to shut the Hell up.

"No problem," I finally said. "I'm supposed to work with Hector on my takedown skills, so do I arrange the assessment with him?"

Tank stared at me for a long second, then turned back to his computer. "Affirmative. If you wait a minute, I'll make the changes."

It was my turn to stare. "That's it?" I asked, incredulously. "What about gym time or diet? I thought Ranger would jump at the chance to make me eat bark and twigs." Not that I would do it. Neither of us would survive if I went off of sugar.

I swear the walls shook when Tank laughed this time. "Not required for contractors, but I'd appreciate it if you kept the junk food off-site or on the DL. No way I'm going to separate you from your TastyKakes, woman."

A few minutes later, I'd signed the contracts and Tank and I had worked out my tentative work and take down schedules for the rest of the week. Tank had even offered me the use of the RangeMan search programs for my own skips.

As I got up to leave, Tank stood and gathered me up into a hug. He's twice my size, so I should've felt like I was being swallowed whole, but it just felt….nice.

"You're doing the right thing, Little Girl."

R&S~R&S~R&S

Hector was waiting for me outside of Tank's office. I had no idea how we'd communicate, since my Spanish only extends to ordering beer and the Taco Bell menu, so I just tagged along when he jerked his head toward the elevator.

Hector occupies most of the third floor, where the server room and equipment storage lockers are located. As I followed him through to his office I looked around in wonder. It was like the Matrix meets Mercenaries R Us. I took the lone guest chair and watched as Hector stripped and rewired some gadget. Who knew that a foot long hunting knife was a multi-purpose tool?

After a few minutes, I giggled. Maybe I'd had a stroke or something but this whole "make Stephanie squirm show" was pretty funny. "Geez," I muttered. "I've seen the contents of Vinnie's desk drawer, so I don't scare that easily."

Hector looked up sharply. "That's just nasty, _chica,_" he said in heavily accented English.

"English!" I squeaked out, my jaw dropping. "When did that happen?"

He smiled, and it was only a little scary. "_Si_, but only the management know, OK?"

I just nodded. Hector stared at me for a couple more minutes, then nodded back. "I like you, you got major _cojones._"

I wasn't 100 percent certain, but I had a feeling both Hector and Tank had a strange fascination with my non-existent boys.

"Great," I said a little uncertainly. "Does that mean we can go train now?"

Hector grinned. "_Si_. We'll use the gym."

I swallowed a groan. Ranger was a solid eleven out of ten, but no one in RangeMan was less than gorgeous. And Hector expected me to spar in a room full of built, shirtless men? _I'd drool all over myself._

Hector laughed and held up his fist for me to bump. "You and me both, _chica."_

Geez, when was I going to stop thinking out loud?

R&S~R&S~R&S

I pulled into the RangeMan garage a whole ten minutes early for my first shift the next morning. I was absentmindedly rubbing my shoulder when I felt a tingling on the back of my neck. I grabbed my shoulder bag from the car and turned around – right into a hard, wonderful smelling chest.

"You all right, Babe?"

I breathed him in for a moment. "Sure, just a little sore from training yesterday," I said as I stepped back. "Hector knows some seriously dirty moves. There was this throat jab, knee strike combo…."

Ranger's jaw tightened. "I told him to train you, not abuse you."

"I'm going to pretend you just said that you very nicely asked Hector to help train me," I sighed. "Hector went easy on me - I just overdid it a little. No damage, scout's honor."

Ranger chuckled as he pulled me close. "You were never a Girl Scout."

He probably knew who my Kindergarten teacher was, too.

"No, but I've eaten a lot of their cookies," I teased.

"Nice," he said as his fingers teased along the waistband of my cargoes. "But maybe I should double check for bruising and to see if you're wearing the whole uniform."

I moaned as his fingers skimmed along my ribcage. Holy cow, he _was_ a wizard. "You know, I checked the uniform code yesterday and there wasn't anything in there about undergarments. I could be wearing absolutely nothing under my uniform and I wouldn't be breaking a single rule," I purred as I traced his collarbone with the tip of one finger.

Ranger's gaze was dark and hungry. "Babe."

I planted both hands on his chest and pushed back a second before our lips met. "But, you'll never know, because there are no provisions for underwear inspections in the employee handbook." I told him cheekily as I stepped out of the circle of his arms.

"I'll see you later, Boss. I wouldn't want to be late my first day."

Ranger threw back his head and laughed. "You're pulling the tiger by the tail, Babe."

R&S~R&S~R&S

Three hours later I'd finished eight searches for Rodriguez. I still hadn't met him, but that didn't stop the jerk from loading more search requests in my inbox when I wasn't looking. Since I was off the clock, I grabbed a yogurt from the break room and sat back down to run a search on a particularly elusive skip of mine.

An hour later, I had just gotten off the phone when Lester dragged a spare chair into my cubicle.

"Hey, Beautiful!" He gave his knee a pat. "Have a seat and tell Uncle Lester what we're going to be doing this afternoon."

I threw a wad of paper at him. "Thanks, but my chair is a lot more comfortable than your bony lap." I giggled when he pouted at me. "Don't be like that, you know you're pretty." Lester Santos was a USDA-certified Prime male specimen like the rest of the Merry Men, and a player from way back. He also never failed to make me smile, so I was glad that he was my assigned backup for the day.

I handed him the file and the search I'd just finished compiling. "Louis Warnicki, charged with destruction of property and aggravated assault." I pointed to a notation in the FTA file. "He drove his car into his ex's living room while she was having dinner with her new boyfriend and tried to set them both on fire."

Lester whistled. "Lucky us! Another nutcase Vinnie posted bail for."

"Vinnie doesn't care as long as they got collateral." I rolled my eyes. "Or he if he knows them from the nudie bar. Anyway, I've had his file for over a week and we're about to forfeit his bond. Louis hasn't shown up at his home or his parents', and the grapevine's been pretty quiet."

I pointed at a highlighted line on the search. "I noticed that he used to work at Moogie's Garage in the Burg. I made some calls and it turns out that Mary Lou's cousin's boyfriend used to work with him and they still hang out." Lester's eyes were beginning to glaze over, so I cut to the chase. "He's meeting the boys at the sports bar off of Lincoln for dollar draft Wednesday at around 3. Happy hour starts early when you're out of work, I guess." The boyfriend owed Lenny, so he wasn't going to tip off Louis, and I was going to babysit for ML and Lenny Saturday night. Favors make the Burg go 'round.

Lester just stared. "I wish I had your network, Beautiful. So what's the plan?"

It was my turn to stare. "You're asking me?" I'd put off accepting backup from RangeMan for years because I thought they'd just pat me on the head and make me wait in the car.

Lester shrugged. "Boss was pretty clear it was your show, and I'm the muscle. So what were you thinking?"

By 3:30, Warnicki was cuffed in the back of a RangeMan SUV and I was trying to tug my ridiculously short skirt down. We'd gone with an oldie but a goody – slutty damsel in distress. He'd followed me out to take a look at my car, and Lester had grabbed him. I'd promised to call Vinnie to bail him out again, so Louis had settled down pretty quickly.

Morelli had been out on a call, so I'd gotten in and out the PD with minimum fuss and, and by 4:30 we were walking into the Bonds office with the body receipt and bags of greasy goodness.

"White Girl, you done brought me some spicy Mexican and some eye candy. I must've been extra good today!" Lula said as she relieved me of my burden. Lula was in a yellow spandex cat suit with matching platform boots and glittery wig.

Lester took her in stride. "You're always good, Lula, but I'm actually Puerto-Rican and Cuban." He waggled his eyebrows as he helped himself to a taco.

Connie, Lula and I laughed until the tears came – and we realized that Lester was on his second helping.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be eating that!" I screeched as I took the churros from him. "I know this isn't on the RangeMan diet."

Lester licked his fingers. "Partner rules, I don't tell Tank about those TastyKakes in your desk drawer and you don't mention how many Tacos I put away."

Put that way, his reasoning was impeccable.

R&S~R&S~R&S

Over the next month or so, my life settled into a new, but pretty satisfying routine. I'd finished my lessons with Francine and Peanut, but I renewed the gym membership. I'd decided that running was not for me, but kickboxing is excellent cardio. I'd only been outrun by one skip that month.

I passed my basic skills assessment at RangeMan, but I still met with Hector twice a week. We were currently working on offensive driving. Like everyone else in Trenton, I could finally pick my locks and he'd taught me plenty of Spanish curse words.

The guys helped me with skips a couple of afternoons a week, and the two or three mornings I spent at RangeMan were surprisingly… enjoyable. The fact that I was only working half days helped, but I'm pretty sure my lunch companion had something to do with it, too. My second day, Ranger had casually invited me up to his apartment on seven for Ella food. Ella can make even tofu and granola taste good, but there had been chocolate cake, too. Ranger saying more than two words _and_ dessert were my idea of a great time. We'd had lunch together a couple of times a week since then.

As strange as it sounds, I was finally getting to know my best friend a little.

I'd also found a friend for life in Francine. We'd grabbed pizza a couple of times and she fit right in with Connie, Mary Lou, Lula and even Grandma. Note to self: Francine and Edna Mazur should never be allowed to attend another Chippendale's show together.

However, everyone knows that things can't go right all of the time – the force gets unbalanced or something like that. At least that's Mooner's theory.

It was a beautiful early September day and Zero and I had just dropped of a skip at the police station. Marcus Whiting was out on bond for possession with intent to distribute enough heroin to cause half of Trenton to OD. He was a biter and awfully clumsy. He kept walking into walls whenever his teeth got near one of us.

"Well, I've officially made rent," I told Zero. "Ice cream's on me." I'd learned something about the Merry Men – when Ranger and Tank weren't around they enjoyed real food as much as anyone. Zero was one of the younger RangeMen and he couldn't resist a stop by Dairy Queen.

I was stuffing the body receipt into my messenger bag when Zero suddenly slipped in front of me, blocking my way. Startled, I looked up, and groaned.

Joe was lounging against our SUV. "Long time no see, Cupcake."

"I've been busy. How are you doing, Morelli?"

"Not as well as you, obviously, Cupcake," he sneered as he stalked toward us.

I bristled as I peered around Zero's back. "What does that mean?"

"You had to jump straight from my bed to Mañoso's didn't you? I bet you didn't wait a week."

I silently counted back from five. "Not that it's any of your business, but he's just a friend, Joe."

"Yeah, I can see that." Joe said with a bitter laugh. "It's real _friendly _of him to keep you supplied with fancy cars and guard dogs."

I suppressed a sigh. "Yeah, Joe. He's a better friend that you ever were."

"Jesus, Cupcake, grow up! Mañoso just wants in your pants. He's even put his brand on you for Christ's sake," he seethed as he jabbed a finger at my RangeMan uniform.

I rolled my eyes. "What's really got your panties in a twist, Joe?"

"You whoring yourself to that murdering thug, that's what!" He shouted.

I quickly flanked Zero to block his gun hand. Not that I wasn't itching to draw on Morelli, but there were witnesses around. "Stand down, soldier." I muttered out of the side of my mouth.

"Just because you wouldn't know friendship if it bit you in the ass, Joe, doesn't mean you get to slander a good man." I took a deep breath. "Ranger and his men have shown me more respect and consideration in the last month than you ever did, so get your jealous ass away from me!"

When Morelli didn't move, I leaned in close. "To tell you the truth, if he'd show the least bit of interest, I'd be all over him. Right now, I'd rather be Ranger's whore than your anything," I hissed.

With that, I took Zero's arm and stalked away.

"You deserve each other, Cupcake! You're both fucking crazy!" Joe screamed as we climbed into the SUV.

I slammed the door extra hard. "He always has to have the last word, doesn't he?"

Zero shook his head as started the engine. "Your ex sure is an asshole, Bomber."

"I know." leaned back into the seat and closed my eyes. "Is it too early for margaritas?"

As we drove away, I realized that maybe I needed to revisit item three on my list. My personal life was still a hot mess.

* * *

**A/N: Next up: Steph and Ranger talk… and some other stuff ****:)****. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun. I've proofread, but all mistakes are my own.**

**A/N: This chapter is a bit longer – There is much talking and some mildish smut at the end of the chapter that I marked off. If this offends you, you can follow the story without it.**

**A/N: ****_Pendejo = Idiot (Mexican Slang); Abuela = Grandmother; Mi primo= My cousin; Chica = Girl, chick; Joda me – Fuck me_**

* * *

Chapter 6

Item 6. Have a social orgasm before I forget what they're like

* * *

After my last showdown with Joe, I had honestly tried to figure out the mess that is my personal life. My feelings for Morelli were easy to sort out. I hoped we could be friends one day, and we had a lot of history, but any romantic feelings or hopes were just that – in the past. Ranger was another matter. He'd made his no relationships policy clear more than once. I loved him, but doubted we'd ever be on the same page relationship-wise. I'd known I needed to move on for a long time, but I wasn't quite ready to give up my time-share in Denial Land.

So when I picked up another stalker, I was almost glad for the distraction. I wasn't happy with Ranger's response, though. I was pretty sure steam was coming out of my ears as I stomped into the control room at RangeMan one day in mid-September.

"Is he in his office?" I asked Hector and Lester when they met me just outside the office corridor. They took one look at me and let me pass. _Now, if I could just get through to their boss_, I thought as I knocked on the door.

When he answered, I swept inside, with Les and Hector hot on my heels.

Ranger calmly closed the folder he was reading through. "Need something, Babe?"

"Don't 'Babe' me, Ranger. We had a deal, and you're breaking it."

"Explain."

Hmmm, that was probably his scary face, but just then, I didn't care. "When I asked for back up, you agreed that no one would track me when I was on my own time, so please explain why Vince and Binkie spent the whole night in my parking lot and why I kept tripping over RangeMen all day today?" Les and Hector had the decency to squirm. Ranger just stared at me impassively.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And if you tell me that Cal just really needed a new pair of kitten heels I'll call bullshit because Macy's doesn't carry size 15s." Cal was a sweet guy, but you'd never convince me that he was into drag with that flaming skull tattooed on his forehead.

"You have a stalker," he said, as if that would explain why Tank had decided that today was a good day for a pedicure. I wasn't sure if the staff at Glamour Nails would ever recover.

"I know, I even called the control room when I got the first package," I said as I fought to keep my voice level. On the scale of one to totally freaking nuts, this one was only about a four. The flowers weren't even dead and I would have really liked the lingerie in the last package if it didn't have creepy stalker cooties.

That I even had a rating scale for my stalkers was a sad, sad testament to my crazy life.

"We also established that you picking up a stalker was a clear exception to the no tracking agreement." Ranger's scary face had melted into his ultra-blank expression, which was probably worse.

He was right, but I didn't have to like it. "I just can't stand the thought of you bleeding money for me." I closed my eyes, briefly. "And zillions of man-hours aside, I'm starting to suffocate with the guys on me all of the time." I knew most of the guys liked me, but every time they guarded me it felt like when I was growing up in the 'Burg all over again. Like I was a particularly interesting bug under a microscope.

Ranger's jaw tightened. "How many times do I have to tell you that there is no price for anything we give each other?" He muttered something under his breath. "Look, Babe, if you're feeling squeezed I'll call a meeting of the core team so we can update you on the search for this guy."

I blew out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. "Fine, and we can decide together just how much or little security I really need?"

Ranger nodded. "Sure, Babe, but if this escalates…."

"I know, you'll stick me in a safe house in the middle of Maine." I sighed. "I still don't know why you even care so much," I muttered under my breath.

I must have been louder than I thought, because Les and Hector suddenly stiffened. Ranger's face gave nothing away, but when he spoke, the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

"We'll meet in the conference room at 1700."

Huh… I guess that meant we were dismissed.

Lester motioned for me to follow him once we were in the hall. We were barely inside Les' office when I felt two sets of eyes glaring at me.

"How could you even think that? Much less say it aloud?" Lester growled. Whoa – so this was Lester Santos when he was pissed.

I just couldn't figure out why he felt that way. "I get that Ranger takes his role as a mentor seriously, but don't you think he's going way overboard? I don't think you guys get that bored."

It was Les' turn to look confused. "Come again?"

I shrugged. "You know, I'm a line item in the budget under entertainment. Just a distraction."

The office was silent for several long moments. Les slumped back into his desk chair and Hector muttered something in Spanish. I wondered what a _pendejo _was?

"Look, Beautiful." Les raked his fingers through his hair, making it spikier than usual. "I've known Ric my whole life and I don't know what he's told you…"

"That's just it. He's told me nothing, and I don't have ESP like the rest of you! As far as I know, _Range_r Mañoso materialized full grown out of thin air one day." I sucked in a breath. "You may know him, but I don't. _Ric's _what, your cousin?"

Lester nodded. "Yeah, our _abuelas_ are sisters." Lester pinched the bridge of his nose. "A blind man could see what you mean to him. And for the record Beautiful, you aren't just a distraction, or a time filler."

I started to protest, but Smart Stephanie was screaming at me to shut up and listen.

"_Si._" Hector broke in. "You don't seriously think he paired us together because of my skills?"

My brow wrinkled. "Sure, what other reason could there be, _Cousin Hector?"_

Hector snorted. "We ain't related, but I grew up next door to his _Abuela Teresa._" Hector shook his head. "Nah, unlike Santos over there, he knows I won't get grabby or enjoy myself too much. You're not my type, _chica._"

Lester shot a rubber band in Hector's direction. "My cousin is a jealous idiot." He leaned forward in his desk. "I'm going to lose my man card over this, but you and _mi primo_ really need to talk. Ric's never been big on words, so my advice is to take a good long look at his actions and consider what they're telling you."

R&S~R&S~R&S

Lester's words stuck with me over the next few days. At the meeting, I'd finally accepted that Ranger and the core team might be acting like overbearing alpha jerks, but that it was all out of concern.

They weren't helping me so they could have a hold over me. I knew Ranger really didn't expect anything in return, and by now I knew they weren't reporting my every move back to the 'Burg gossips, so what was my real issue? Pride?

So, I agreed to stay in an open efficiency at RangeMan for a few days and to take someone with me whenever I left the building. My condition was that if we weren't chasing skips, they had to volunteer and wear their off-duty clothes. The black SWAT gear and visible weapons tend to scare off sales staff. Ella made me brownies to go with the tree bark that the guys usually ate, and I let myself feel only a little guilty about the extra money I was costing RangeMan.

The stalker was caught after only a couple of days thanks to the hidden cameras Hector had planted outside my apartment. I'd gone to high school with Michael Lewinski, but I'd never known he had a crush on me back then. Apparently his interest was rekindled when I'd picked him up for skipping bail on a minor weapons charge a couple of weeks before.

Ranger and Tank had a long talk with him and showed him the error of his ways. According to the 'Burg grapevine, Michael's decided that I was way too much trouble. Eh, so I have baggage – most of it looks really good in cargo pants.

So, Rex and I were back home and the latest stalker situation was resolved with minimum fuss. The only thing not right in my world was my relationship with Ranger. He'd been avoiding me.

Lester's words had led me to examine _my _words and actions as well as Ranger's. I didn't like what I'd found, which was why I was on my way up to Ranger's apartment. I'd texted him from the garage, so Ranger met me at the door. We were both off shift and the sight of shirtless Ranger in sweat pants almost made me forget why I was there.

"Want something to drink, Babe?" He asked softly.

I tore my eyes away from his chest. "Sure, do you have beer?"

We sat side by side at the breakfast bar with a couple of Coronas. I couldn't meet his eyes for several minutes.

"Babe, that lime is done."

I smiled weakly as I set aside the lime I'd just mangled. "I'm sorry."

Ranger's eyebrow flew upward, and I realized with a start that I'd never said those words to him before.

"I let pride get in the way, as usual, and I dismissed the real care and concern you have for me." I laughed, though it was a bitter dry sound to my ears. "I'm a mess, so I can't figure out why you bother."

"Babe." Ranger tilted my chin up and our gazes met and held. "I bother because you're worth it."

I bit my lip and blinked back the tears that suddenly threatened. "OK, I can't promise that I'll ever like it when you guard me, but I'll promise not to argue too much if you talk it over with me first. Deal?" Ranger nodded.

I took a long drink from my beer for courage, and to settle the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. "You confuse the hell out of me with your words and your actions, but I've come to realize that you're nothing like Joe, my ex-husband or anyone I've ever met, really. You're just about the best friend I've ever had."

Ranger didn't interrupt, so I took a deep breath before continuing. "I realized that as confusing as you have been, I haven't been much better. There's a lot that I need to say to you."

"Babe." Ranger's lips met mine then, in an almost desperate kiss. I didn't know if he was trying to tell me something, or keep me from finishing my thoughts.

Reluctantly, I pushed away from him. "That's one thing. I can't keep kissing you like this."

His blank face slammed into place. "So you came here to say goodbye."

"No!" I twisted my hands nervously in my lap. "I'm screwing this up, but no, I'm not saying goodbye. I need you as my friend and I hope you feel the same way. I know you don't do relationships and that your love comes with a condom and not a ring, so that's why I've never told you how I feel," I babbled.

"Babe, Breathe." The corners of his mouth lifted into a small grin.

I took a deep breath. "There will never come a time I don't want you as a friend, but I don't think my heart or my sanity can handle casual sex with you." I smiled sadly. "I've never said it, but you should hear it at least once. You're in my heart, Ranger."

I'd said what I needed to, so I set my beer down and got up to leave.

"You said you wanted me as a friend, but what about as more?" he asked, stopping me before I could open the door.

I could feel him, a warm, solid presence at my back. I leaned my forehead against the apartment door and tried to stamp down the sliver of hope that bloomed inside me.

"You've made it pretty clear that more isn't an option."

Ranger gently turned me to face him and the raw emotion I saw made my breath catch.

Then his phone rang and I carefully packed the hope away.

With a curse, he grabbed his phone off the breakfast bar. "Sir. When?"

I started to leave, but his eyes pleaded for me to stay. The novelty of an emotional Ranger stopped me in my tracks.

Ranger listened for several more moments. "Understood. I'll be there." He hung up. "_Joda me!_"

It sounded like a choice curse word, so I filed it away for my next session with Hector.

Ranger dropped his phone on the sideboard. "That was my handler. I have to leave for DC in half an hour."

"Oh." Was he supposed to be telling me all that? "Do you need me to do anything?"

Ranger's lips crashed down on mine. The kiss was hot, hungry and so intense black dots danced in front of my eyes. OK, I'd start enforcing the no kissing rule when he returned.

"I _need_ you to call Tank if you need anything. At all." He told me when we finally broke apart.

Dazed, I shook my head. "Ranger…." He silenced me with another kiss.

"Please."

"Damn it, why do you have to bring out the big guns?" I complained, still trying to catch my breath.

Ranger chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

"Fine, I will, but only because I sort of like you," I said, grinning back.

Ranger studied me for one long moment, his expression solemn. "I want you to think about everything you know about me, all the shit we've been through, and when I return, I'll ask that question again. I shouldn't be gone longer than a couple of weeks."

With one last kiss, he disappeared back into his bedroom.

"Don't get shot!" He still confused the heck out of me, but I couldn't break with tradition.

R&S~R&S~R&S

**Ranger's POV**

I'd never resented my work for the government as much as I did during the 15 days and 19 hours that I'd been away from Stephanie this time.

I've done a lot of bad shit in my life and I'd come to accept I was headed straight for Hell, but watching over Stephanie Plum gave me a measure of peace.

When I was younger, I had tried medicating or fucking my demons away. Later, when I started RangeMan, I'd relied upon routine and rigid control to keep it together. The walls I built around my emotions protected me better than any Army-issued body armor ever did.

And then a little White girl from the 'Burg turned my world upside down, with her big blue eyes, crazy curls and more style and guts than anyone I'd ever known.

Steph wasn't intimidated by me, and she never seemed to want any of the things that the other women had wanted from me. Sure, I could affect her, and God knows I put a great deal of effort into putting that love-drunk look on her face every chance I got. But she let me know in a dozen different ways that I was more than a willing body to her and that she didn't care about my money. As infuriating as her independent streak is, it's one of the things I love most about her.

I couldn't order her around like one of my men, either. She had no concept of procedure or chain of command and seemed to operate on pure instinct. I loved to see what she'd come up with next.

Sometime between the night I found her handcuffed naked to her shower rod and the day she brought in Morelli, I realized I didn't even _want_ to control her. And before I'd known her a year I was ready to destroy anyone who even thought about hurting her or clipping her wings.

But I still thought I could keep her at distance, and that the occasional kiss or night with her was enough. That it had to be enough. I was convinced that I was protecting her from my enemies and that she was too good for a twisted bastard like me.

But I've had to accept that I was protecting myself, as well. Stephanie Plum makes me _feel_ – and it's both Heaven and Hell. I'd never felt such a dizzying rush of love as I did the first time she fell asleep in my arms. I've carried out missions in some of the worst shitholes on the face of the Earth but I've never felt fear like I do every time one of her trackers goes off line.

So, for a long time, I convinced myself that she belonged with another man and that I should be content with just watching over her.

But my Babe told me I was in her heart, and I'm a selfish enough SOB to want to find out what that means.

Tank was waiting for me when I landed in Newark. We'd been through this enough times that when I asked for a report, he led with the intel that I really wanted.

"No incidents – we've backed her up on a few of skips and she hasn't had any problem hauling in the rest on her own. Bomber's still working at the office a couple of mornings a week and keeping up with the training." Tank cleared his throat. "I'd appreciate it if you could spend a little time at the range with her – she's starting to make the men nervous."

I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. My Babe never disappoints. "Steph's still shooting the dicks off the paper men?"

Tank grinned back. "Yeah, it don't bother me none 'cause she names all of them 'Joe', but some of the younger guys are a little sensitive."

"The cop?" It wouldn't change my intentions much if they were back together, but Steph would be upset if I shipped Morelli off to a 'Stan.

"He's been laying low – my source says their status is still off." Tank cut his eyes toward me. "You thinking about mobilizing on that?"

Damn right I was. "Keep your eyes on the road."

"It'd be the only smart thing you done all year, RangeMan."

"Shut the hell up, Pierre." If I wanted advice, I'd write Dear Abby.

The rest of the trip, Tank filled me in on RangeMan business.

"No break-ins and three new contracts. Any chance you going to tackle that stack of paperwork I left on your desk?"

"I'm offline the rest of the week," I said as we hit Trenton. I checked the time - 1700 hours

Tank grinned. "Will Little Girl be offline too?"

Only if I were very lucky. "You got a location on Stephanie?" I broke in before he could continue. Tank could make grown men piss themselves, but he could gossip worse than a whole group of old women.

"She's supposed to be picking up skips with Santos." He passed an iPad over to me. "You want to join the party?"

_Fuckin' A_, I thought as I pulled up the tracking program. It looked like they were headed toward Stark. We pulled up behind Les' SUV a few minutes later, just as the front door to the small row house burst open. The skip had Les in a head lock and we watched as they stumbled down the sidewalk. Tank stopped me before I could wade in.

Steph came at them fast, delivering a solid hit to the skip's free side, throwing him off balance. Santos broke free, and the skip dropped to the ground, out cold.

Tank nodded toward where Steph was holstering her stun gun. "She's gotten fast with that thing."

I could only nod. Call me sick, but the sight of my woman taking care of business like that had me hard as a rock. I'd loved Stephanie Plum for years, but I'd never wanted her more. This woman - who'd taken responsibility for her training, who wouldn't take a second of my shit and still could make me smile on my worst day – was the woman I wanted to wake up next to every morning for the rest of my life.

Who was I kidding? I needed her at my side.

R&S~R&S~R&S

**Steph's POV**

Les had just finished cuffing the FTA when I felt it – that tingling sensation that I'd missed like crazy since Ranger had been in the wind. I looked up in time to see Tank and Ranger headed toward us. He'd come straight from the airport, judging by the three days growth of beard that was shadowing his face. I didn't want to think about what that meant – but I couldn't help it.

He hadn't rejected _us_ outright, but when he'd left so suddenly, I'd decided to extend my vacation in Denial Land. Smart Stephanie had been blessedly quiet about the whole thing.

"Babe." He slowly lowered his aviators. He looked tired, but there was no visible damage. When his lips spread into a full grin, my heart rate went into overdrive.

"Batman." I smiled back. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Couldn't miss the chance to watch you work, Babe."

Our gazes met and held. I have no idea for how long. Finally, I closed the distance between us and he drew me to him. "I missed you, too," I whispered against his chest. Of course, my stomach had to pick that moment to remind me I had skipped lunch.

Ranger's chest shook with laughter, Lester snorted and Tank cleared his throat, reminding me that we weren't alone. I ducked my head to hide my flaming red cheeks and reluctantly broke away from Ranger. Ranger raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the SUVs.

"Sure, give me a sec and I'd love to grab some dinner." I dug through my shoulder bag until I found the capture paperwork. Turning toward Les I slapped the folder against his chest.

"OW, what was that for?" He grumbled.

"I thought I'd save us both time and give you a smack for whatever smart ass comment you're about to let loose."

Les clutched his heart dramatically. "You wound me, Beautiful!" He leaned in close. "I'd say your ESP works just fine," he whispered, reminding me of our conversation from a few weeks ago.

With the skip taken care of, Ranger slung his arm over my shoulder. I had no idea how our talk would go, but I wanted to hold on to this moment forever. It was…..

"Play nice children and don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Les sang out as we walked toward the Explorer.

"Santos! Mats, 5 AM!" Ranger and Tank growled in unison.

It was perfect.

R&S~R&S~R&S

We stopped at Hunan Wok for a double order of General Tso's for me and some sort of steamed vegetable dish for Ranger. Outside my apartment, I took the bag of food from him and gestured toward the door.

"Go on, it's been a while since you broke in. I don't want you to get rusty."

"Babe." Ranger's lips twitched, as if to say that wasn't a possibility. He drew his picks out of his wallet and made short work of my locks.

I rolled my eyes. "Show off." My best time was still about four minutes.

"I hear you get the job done, Babe. That's all that matters." His grin turned wolfish. "There are plenty of other things I like to take my time with. I'd be glad to show you," he said as he took the food back. He kissed me just above my ear and disappeared inside.

Holy hot flash. Jokes and compliments? I wasn't sure I could handle this Ranger.

We plopped down on my sofa and ate in silence for several minutes. I wasn't sure how to 'continue' our conversation and maybe Ranger wasn't either.

"What happened with Morelli?"

Huh. It wasn't something I was itching to talk about, but a fair question. I started with the day Melvin tossed the Molotov into my car and how I felt about Joe calling me an embarrassment. I'd just given him the very short version of the breakup when I heard the sound of snapping wood.

"_Pendejo_!" Ranger muttered as he laid down the broken chopsticks.

I was really going to have to ask someone what that word meant. "Here." I handed him the second set, still in the wrapper. "They don't make those things like they used to," I teased as I brandished my fork. "Stainless steel is the way to go."

"Babe."

I sighed. I should've known better than to try to distract Batman when he's on a mission. "I'll always care about Joe, but I finally realized we didn't want the same things. We were just marking time and that wasn't fair to him or me. Joe and I are through."

Ranger muttered something under his breath. I was pretty sure it wasn't complimentary. "I thought he could give you what you wanted. What you needed."

"That was most of the problem." I said with a bitter laugh. "It took me four freakin' years to ask Joe what he wants, and Hell, he still doesn't know what I want, not that it matters." I tried to tamp down the anger bubbling through me. "And you never asked me, either!"

Ranger rubbed one hand over his face. "And that makes me an idiot." He tilted my chin up so we were eye to eye. "What do you want, Babe?"

Huh, except for Francine, I usually only heard that question at a fast food drive through. "I know I don't want to be a stay at home wife," I said slowly. "And the thought of kids still makes my eye twitch." We both chuckled. "I really just want and need someone to support my choices and to back me up. I just want to spend time with someone I love, who loves me back and won't cheat on me."

"It sounds pretty simple, put that way." Ranger said, his voice low and thoughtful.

"But pretty hard to deliver on," I said, thinking about my and Joe's train wreck of a relationship.

"Before I left, I asked you how you felt about us being more than friends."

"And I said that you'd made it pretty clear that you don't do relationships," I reminded him.

"A lot of my reasons are still valid." Ranger gently touched his finger to my lips. "Please, hear me out, Babe. I've done a lot bad shit in my life and that makes me a bad bet for the long term. I have enemies that wouldn't hesitate to take you out just to mess with me."

"It's happened," I agreed, remembering Scrog and Orrin. "But do I have to remind you that my enemies are local and even crazier?" I shrugged. "How many times have I broken you or one of the Merry Men? Or you've had to ride in to save me? I don't see you dropping me over it."

Ranger nodded. "I know, Babe, and the rest of the world already thinks you're my woman." He studied me for another long minute. "The things I've done. You don't know what kind of man I am."

"I know exactly what kind of man you are." I took a deep breath and prayed silently for the guts to finish. "And I love you. I've watched you for years, with me and your men, and I've seen what you were willing to do keep me safe." I held his gaze, willing him to understand what I was trying to say. "Especially during the Abruzzi mess. You'll never be able to convince me you aren't a good man." It probably wasn't the same, but I'd killed too. The fact that they were trying to kill me at the time didn't really lessen the guilt. Ranger may have his own moral code, but it was more solid than most of the cops I knew.

He took a deep shuddering breath, and pulled me onto his lap. "I don't think I can stay away anymore. " His mouth covered mine, a soft, lingering press of the lips. For once his kiss wasn't meant to send me up in flames – instead it was simply to say I'm here, are you with me?

"I'm a selfish bastard to say this, but I love you, Stephanie. No qualifiers."

I pulled back slightly, and studied him with narrowed eyes. "You've said some shitty things in the past, are you done with that?"

He smiled softly. "I'm yours if you want me." His eyes narrowed in challenge. "I won't do any of that on/off shit, and if Joe or anyone else poaches…"

_The poor bastard would wake up in a third world country_, I finished silently. From his answering chuckle, either Ranger's ESP was fully functional or I'd just said that out loud. I nodded. "OK. I guess I didn't do any of us any favors going back and forth with Morelli."

He gathered me to him. "I probably still would have pushed you away, Babe."

I just breathed him in for several long minutes. The knowledge that I wouldn't have to let go – ever again, almost floored me. But I still didn't have a clue how this would work.

"If we're going to do this," I began hesitantly, "we'll have to actually talk sometimes. _You'll_ have to talk."

"Babe."

I suppressed a scream of impatience. "That's what I was talking about – I need more than 'Babe', Ranger." I told him, lowering my voice to mimic his. "I get it, there's a lot you can't tell me about your past, your service record, or when you go into the wind, but your favorite color, or the name of your dog when you were six aren't state secrets, are they? And this is big – if I'm doing something that drives you crazy, you'll have to talk to me and not just throw me in a safe house."

"Loco." He grinned at my disgruntled expression. "Our dog was a little mutt named Loco." He pressed a kiss into my curls. "With my training, I've gotten used to treating everything like it was need-to-know."

"But if it's not classified…." I began.

"I'll need help, but if you ask, I'll answer." His expression grew solemn. "I want the same deal – if we have a problem, don't shut me out and go running back to your apartment."

I winced. After all of my breakups with Joe, my go-to defense mechanism was hardly a secret. "OK, I'll do my best."

* * *

****Begin Smut******

Smart Stephanie and I both agreed that the conversation was getting too way heavy. "Since we're negotiating," I said as I moved off his lap so I could slide my hand underneath his T-shirt. "I can't give up TastyKakes and I demand sex at least once a day."

Ranger shuddered as I traced the ridges of his eight pack. "I wouldn't even try to get between you and your sugar, Babe. I don't think loving you _twice_ a day will be enough, but we can work that out as we go along," he finished as he kissed along my neck, his stubble tickling me. I'd have one heck of a case of beard burn in the morning, but I really didn't care as long as…

"Don't stop," I moaned as he pulled my T-shirt over my head. "My Mom's getting pretty twitchy, so we'll have to have dinner at my parents' soon."

"Babe, I've faced insurgents less scary than your grandmother." His breath grew labored as I flicked his left nipple with my thumbnail. "But I can take one for the team sometimes." He undid my bra with a flick of his fingers. "You'll have to carry your gun at all times."

"I already do. Eddie promised me I'd never have to babysit again if I carried." I gasped as his lips closed over my nipple.

"Remind me to send Eddie a case of something." Ranger kissed his way up my chest and neck until we were eye to eye. "You've really blown me away these last few months. Proud of you, Babe."

Those four words turned my insides to mush like usual, but it had been way too long since I'd been intimate with anyone but my shower massager. Time to wrap up this up.

"I'll carry and train with Hector, but please discuss it with me first before you put the guys on guard duty," I said as I tossed his shirt over my shoulder.

"Fine, but try not to ditch them, Babe." His eyes slid closed and his breath hitched as I licked my way down his chest to his abs. "Babe, if I promise to talk twice as much later, can we table this for now?"

My grin turned devilish. "Just one more thing – what should I call you? Hmmm…. Ranger? Ric?" Neither sounded quite right. "Carlos?"

His eyes went pitch black. "Say that again," he demanded as he unbuttoned my pants. I lifted my hips so he could slide my cargoes and panties off of me. I closed my eyes as he slid off the couch.

"Carlos, Carrrlos," I teased, rolling my r's. "Carlos!" It came out as a breathless moan when his tongue danced along my clit.

"Oh yeah, that will work," he said huskily as he stood and threw me over his shoulder. "Feel free to scream that as much as you like."

We landed on my bed, in a tangle of limbs. "So, we're really going to do this?" I asked, giggling breathlessly.

Ranger – Carlos smiled as he fished a condom out of his cargoes. "We are and it's going to be good, Babe."

And it was. His lips skimmed over my breasts, my stomach and down – down to exactly where I needed him. When his lips closed over my clit and sucked, I couldn't help arching into him, and when he thrust his fingers into me, I was gone.

R&S~R&S~R&S

"God, I needed that," I said much later as he pressed a line of nibbling kisses over my neck and shoulders. His dark chuckle signaled his obvious agreement, and I started to remind him that infuriating, arrogant men were so not attractive. But then he did something with his tongue that was probably illegal in thirty states.

OK, I'll give you about a week to stop that."

"I really missed you, Babe." He moved to my side and pulled me close.

I settled myself into the circle of his arms. "I could get used to this." In fact, I might have to cuff him to the bed if he tried to move anytime soon.

Ranger chuckled. "I might just let you, if I get a turn, too."

"Aloud, right?" I buried my face in his neck. "Geez, I need to stop doing that."

"I wasn't planning on moving for a while, anyway, Babe."

"Seriously?" I tried, and failed to raise one eyebrow. "As in no midnight meeting or going back into the wind in the next five minutes?"

He chuckled again. Relaxed, smiling Ranger was a little weird, but good. Maybe I was finally meeting Carlos.

"I told Tank I was off-line for the rest of the week, and I'm not planning on any more missions for a while."

"Wait – are you even supposed to be telling me that? Don't you have some highly classified, can't talk about it contract with the government?"

"Babe. I thought I was supposed to be talking more." He pressed a kiss onto the top of my head. "I haven't had a contract for a while – I take jobs on a case-by-case basis."

"And this last mission? You're OK, right?" He didn't have a scratch on him– I checked, but it never hurt to ask.

"I'm fine, Babe." He sighed. "I'd accepted this last mission a couple of months ago and was just waiting for the go-ahead. If they'd sprung it on me the night you came up to seven, I guarantee you I wouldn't have gone."

"Ranger." He glared at me. Oh. "Carlos. I wouldn't have asked that of you… I have no right."

"Babe." He silenced me with a kiss. "We're doing this relationship thing, right?"

I nodded.

"I can't promise I'll be home for dinner every night or that I won't have to take calls in the middle of the night, but I do promise to run the big stuff by you. I meant it when I said I was yours."

My eyes filled. "I'm yours, too." God, I was such a sap, but he was telling me everything I wanted to hear and I had the sneaking suspicion he meant every word. This was what I wanted, which reminded me….

"You asked me, but I never asked you. What do you want, Carlos?"

He smiled then – a full, beautiful thousand watts. "Just you, here, backing me. Loving me."

Was it possible to go up in flames and melt into a puddle of goo at the same time? With a move I owed to Hector, I had him on his back in a flash.

"You've got me." I smiled as I slid my palm down his body, until I gripped him my hand, lightly stroking the length of his cock. "Keep talking like that, mister, and you're going to get sooo lucky."

* * *

**Thanks again to everyone that reviewed and everyone that has stuck with this story. I'm planning on one more chapter to wrap things up.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun. I've proofread, but all mistakes are my own.**

**A/N: ****_Te amo tambien = _****I love you, too.**

* * *

Chapter 7

Item 7. Figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

* * *

"Come on, come on," I muttered as the elevator descended from the control room. The damn thing was stopping at every single floor. No one else was getting on, so I was smelling a rat. A muscle- bound rat named Tank or Lester, to be exact.

I breathed a sigh of relief when no one was waiting for me when I stepped out into the garage, but before I could make a break for it, Smart Stephanie made her presence known. Annoying bitch.

"Damn it," I muttered as I pressed speed dial one on my phone. I was ridiculously relieved when Ranger answered with a 'Yo'.

"I'm not running away." I took a deep breath. "I mean, I know I ran, but I just need a little time to get my head together. Can we meet for lunch somewhere and talk?"

Ranger was silent for several beats – long enough for me to check to see if the call was still active. "OK, Babe. I have a couple of meetings, but I can see you at one." Hmmm… This was all business Ranger, but at least he wasn't using his 'meet me on the mats' voice. That was usually reserved for Lester.

"Great – the diner?" We'd first met at the greasy spoon on Main; it was kind of 'our' place.

"Sure, I'll reserve our usual booth." Huh. Ranger humor.

I didn't know what else to say. What covers _I'm sorry I just ran out of your office in a snit instead of talking things over like a rational adult, but I don't know how to fix things yet? _

"I love you," I murmured. It would have to do.

"_Te amo tambien, _Babe._"_

I stared at my phone, and slowly smiled. His phone manners still needed work, but Ranger understood and still had my back.

I turned to leave and found myself face to face with Hector. "God, don't scare me like that!"

Hector snorted. "We'll work on you being aware of your surroundings next session."

I rolled my eyes as I zipped up my coat. "Can't wait. Don't you have someone else to terrorize?"

He smiled and it was really… not scary. "Nah, no one is as much fun as you." He nodded toward my phone. "Santos wanted to stun you and lock you in with the Boss, but I knew you'd do the right thing."

I kissed him on the cheek and then flipped him off as I walked away. I had to keep up appearances, but I was secretly flattered that the Merry Men had my back too.

R&S~R&S~R&S

I got into the Explorer I'd been using since my Corolla went to Car Heaven and started toward the Burg. I know – big surprise, but at least no one had tried to blow me up. This time there was a freak accident between the TastyKake van and a garbage truck, and my poor car was just collateral damage. My luck really does suck, but at least I got a whole case of Butterscotch Krimpetts out of it.

The last couple of months since Ranger and I got together had definitely not sucked, though. We'd spent the rest of that first week off-line in Ranger's apartment, only surfacing Saturday night for dinner at Rossini's and dancing. He had somewhat abashedly apologized for not wining and dining me first, but I understood. God knows how many doomsday orgasms later, and we still weren't able to keep our hands off each other in the restaurant. My mother was scandalized and Grandma is still pestering me for details.

Our relationship was both more and less than what I'd expected – more romance and less drama, that is. Ranger was a hot-as-hell badass who probably knew six ways to take out a man with a pen cap, but Carlos had four annoying older sisters who called him 'Ricky', and he liked to cuddle on the couch after dinner. I was totally in love with both aspects of my man.

At some point, the Merry Men had somehow morphed from babysitters to a bunch of occasionally annoying big brothers. Maybe it was because I finally wasn't letting my guilt over loving Ranger get in the way, or maybe I just felt like a member of the team.

Lately, I'd gone out with Hector on a few installation jobs. I don't know why he makes some clients nervous, because he's a real sweetheart. Most of the RangeMen were. Hal was a great stakeout partner, Vince and Woody never failed to crack me up, and Zero and Lester fought over who got to round up skips with me. They said it was my sparkling personality, but I had a feeling that they loved me for the junk food runs, too.

The question was, if I was so happy with Ranger and the guys, why had I just turned down a full-time job at RangeMan?

My phone rang while I was stopped at a traffic light on Hamilton. I hit the button on the steering wheel and Lula's voice flooded out through the sound system.

"Hey White Girl! I'm gettin' my shopping on! You wanna join me?"

I checked the time. 11:00. I had time for a couple of errands, but with the way mayhem and destruction usually followed me and Lula when we were out, I'd better not.

"Sorry, but I'm meeting Ranger for lunch. Can I take a rain check?"

"Hunh. I just bet you're having lunch. More like a little afternoon delight. Not that I blame you, 'cause if I had a man that fine, I'd be climbing him like a tree every chance I got."

I shook my head to get rid of that particular mental image. "Hey, I have a 50%-off coupon for Macy's that I can share with you. Why don't we meet up there and then we can pick up Bunky Malloy for you? I heard he's working at the food court."

That was another big change. Lula had taken a crash course with Francine and was handling a few of the lower bonds now. Once I'd convinced her to leave her gun in her Firebird, she'd been doing pretty well. After agreeing to meet at Quaker Bridge Mall the next morning, I hung up and headed toward the 'Burg.

R&S~R&S~R&S

I pulled up outside Giovichinni's a few minutes later. Mom had called me earlier with a lunch meat emergency. I came out with a half-pound of provolone and some olive loaf to find Joe leaning against the Explorer.

"Joe, I really don't want to get into it with you right now."

He held up his hands. "Just hear me out, Cupcake, I come in peace."

I huffed out a breath. "Fine, but don't call me Cupcake anymore."

I stowed the deli bag inside the Explorer and joined Joe. Since it was my loaner SUV, I got to lean against the hood. He had to stand on the sidewalk and fidget. I drew my collar up to ward off the early December chill and waited for him to say his piece.

"Look, I was an ass, but I just couldn't stand the thought of Mañoso winning."

I arched one eyebrow – all that practice with Lester had finally paid off. "Like I'm a prize at the arcade?"

He flushed a dull red. "No, you're not, but Jesus, Cup – Steph, he's sniffed around you for years and then you start dating him…."

"One – Ranger and I started dating a good couple of months after our break-up, and two – can you tell me you never once made time with anyone else when you and I were in an off-stage or when we were trying out that non-commitment agreement?" The grapevine went both ways, buddy.

Joe fidgeted some more, and I finally took pity on him. "I wasn't fair to you, and I'm sorry." He looked up at me sharply, eyes wide. "Yeah, I'm learning how to apologize. Joe, Ranger didn't have anything to do with our breakup. You and I just weren't working."

He shook his head. "I was willing to commit to you."

I smiled sadly. "And could you imagine what I'd be like as a housewife?"

Joe thought for a second and snorted. "We would have killed each other within a year."

"Eh, I would've only given us six months." I held out my hand. "Friends now? I hate fighting with you, Joe."

"Sure, Steph. I'm sorry, too. For everything." He pulled me into a brief hug, instead. "You know, you're lookin' good. I think Mañoso suits you."

"Yeah, because we're both nuts, right?" When he hung his head, I punched him lightly on the arm. "It's OK. I _am _happy, and I want you to be happy too." After I swung myself up into the SUV, I poked my head out of the door. "Hey, Stella Mancini is single again and she was asking about you the other day. You should ask her out."

R&S~R&S~R&S

Grandma met me at the front door, as usual. Since it was winter, she'd packed away the tube tops, but if anything, the green spandex elf suit was even more revealing. I took one look at her skinny little legs and promised myself I'd do more leg presses next time I was at the gym.

"Hey baby Granddaughter!" She twirled around. "What do you think? I heard that hot Elmer Laskey was playing Santa and I wanted to look extra good when I sat on his lap," she told me as she clacked her dentures furiously.

"You look great, Grandma." I suppressed a shudder. Elmer was at least seventy. I really hoped I wouldn't have to bail her out again – the mall was threatening to ban her as it was.

"Is Ma around?" I asked cautiously. It'd only been a few minutes since I'd left Joe at the deli, but that was plenty of time for the phone to start ringing. Our encounter had been perfectly innocent, but with my luck the grapevine would have me either shooting Joe or pregnant with his demon spawn before the end of the day. I followed Grandma back to the kitchen and was shocked to find my mother stirring something at the stove. The ironing board was in its closet and there wasn't a highball glass in sight. Huh.

"Stephanie! Thank God you got the lunchmeat – you know your father. If lunch isn't on the table by noon…."

"He gets twitchy," I finished for her. "Hey, heard any news lately?"

She set the coffee cake in front of me. "If you're talking about your being seen with the Morelli boy outside of Giovichinni's, I told Linda Giambucco that you were dating a very nice local business owner and you and Joe were probably just talking police business."

I stared at her in shock. "That's it? No 'you should get back with Joseph'?"

"Honestly Stephanie, you're an adult. What do I have to say about your personal life?" She huffed as she set a glass of milk in front of me to go with the monster slice of cake I'd just cut.

"What your mother means is that you've got that hot Cuban bounty hunter now," Grandma told me. "Even Helen can spot quality and what he's packing is USDA grade prime beef."

"Really, Mother!" Mom cheeks were bright pink. "Carlos is a nice young man!"

"No comment, Grandma." I muttered as I mopped up the milk I'd just sprayed over the table. No, my mom isn't a pod person. Ranger was just that good. He'd shown up to the first dinner we'd had at my parents' with her favorite wine and had proceeded to charm the socks off of my mother. He'd completely won her over at Thanksgiving when he'd single-handedly saved dinner after Grandma and her latest squeeze had started making out at the table and had knocked a lit candle over into Mom's glass of Jack Daniel's.

What can I say? My man has lightning fast reflexes – even Grandma hasn't been able to get a good grope in, yet.

"Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you and he have an announcement to make at Christmas!" Now _that _sounded more like Helen Plum.

"Ma…." I pressed my fingers against my left temple to stop the twitch. "We haven't even talked marriage yet!" And I wasn't about to mention that he'd asked me to move in, either.

"Well – you're not getting any younger, Stephanie."

"True – and I have been thinking of making some changes." When mom's eyes began to gleam, I quickly cut her off. "With my job! I'm thinking of changing my job!" Ranger's ESP was obviously working because he somehow knew I'd been thinking about quitting Vinnie's – and was there to offer me a job with a ridiculous compensation package.

"Hmm, well that's something at least." She cut me another slice of cake and patted me on the hand. "As long as you're happy, dear."

I took a bite of cake. It beat banging my head against the table top.

R&S~R&S~R&S

After I left my parents' house, I drove around for a while to get my thoughts together. I made it to the diner first and grabbed our usual booth. I was leaning against the back wall, nursing a Coke when Ranger slid in next to me. The lunch rush was mostly over, so we had the back to ourselves.

"Good to see you keeping an eye on your surroundings, Babe."

I gave him a brief kiss on the lips. "Eh, you were bound to rub off on me sometime."

His eyes went dark. "Babe." Translation: _I'd rub off on you anytime_.

I rolled my eyes. "When we're not in public, I'll take you up on the offer."

"I'll look forward to it." His expression sobered. "See anyone interesting this morning?"

I groaned. The NSA had nothing on this town's gossip network. "Depends on how you define interesting. I ran into Morelli outside of Giovicchini's for a minute. I sort of apologized. He sort of apologized."

Before Ranger and I got together, I would've said that his blank face had just slammed down. Now I knew better – it was subtle, but I could see a whole world of expressions in the press of his lips, his eyes.

"Hey, that's over and done with. We wished each other well, and I suggested that he ask out a woman who's had a crush on him since junior high." I grimaced. "I don't know if I did her a favor or not."

"Babe, I trust you," he said softly. "I just don't trust him."

"I get it, he and I were together a long time." It saddened me to have that between us, but it was true.

"I don't trust Morelli to not hurt you, to not humiliate you," Ranger corrected gently. He brought my hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn. "I've seen you in action, Babe – I know you could and would knock him on his ass if he were poaching."

"Damn right." I grinned. "How's Lester doing, by the way?"

"He'll live, but little Lester might not be up for any action for a while." We both smirked. Lester should've known better than to try to get the drop on me in a darkened alley – my knee was a lethal weapon.

"So, I saw Joe for a second, and then I stopped by my parents'." Which reminded me. "Please tell me you need me to work a triple shift over Christmas!"

"Looking a little crazy there, Babe." His lips twitched. "We front a skeleton crew so everyone gets some family time over the holidays. Which reminds me, we've been invited to spend Christmas Eve in Newark."

"Sold! Will there be more of those little empañadas?" We'd had lunch with his parents when we were passing through Newark on our way to spend my birthday in New York. His parents were perfectly lovely. We were there over an hour and they barely interrogated me.

"Babe." He winced. "There'll be forty people there. My family is Cuban and extremely loud."

"Have either of your grandmothers ever been arrested for public nudity?" We both shuddered. "Will any of your brothers-in-law make inappropriate conversation and/or faint at the dinner table?"

"Babe."

"No? Then it sounds like a pretty good time to me. I'd be happy to go if you're there." That Ranger was making holiday plans with me gave me the courage to acknowledge the elephant in the room after the waitress dropped off our orders.

"I'm sorry that I ran out like that this morning." I took a deep breath. "One of the few things you asked was that I stick around and talk things out with you and I didn't. But I will now if you want to."

He nodded. "Was it the car?"

"It didn't help." I shrugged. "Seriously – a fully loaded Porsche Cayenne? What were you thinking? I'd destroy it within a week!" I'd probably only need an hour to blow it up.

"Breathe, Stephanie." He cupped the back of my neck, instantly calming me. Ranger's hands should be a registered UN peace keeping resource. "I was thinking that it had every possible safety feature. Armor cladding, bullet proof glass…."

"And alarms and bomb sensors out the wazoo," I finished for him. "It's just too much." I whispered.

"Babe." He turned me to him and rested his forehead on mine. "Nothing is too much for you."

And he meant it. I'd never been loved quite that much, but still… "I just feel like a kept woman sometimes." I said quietly. "I know you don't feel that way, but part of me can't escape the idea that I'm just a big sucking drain on you and RangeMan. You give me cars whenever I need them and offer me a full-time job I'm not qualified for out of… I don't even know!"

"Babe, I don't want to ever hear you say that again." Ranger's expression hardened slightly. "I don't do pity. One thing you should know by now is that I don't mess around with my business. You're exactly qualified for the job I offered you - helping out in bond enforcement and in client relations. Silvio and Rodriguez may be the best at searches, but you have the best instincts I've ever seen for putting together information to find a skip. You always get your man, Babe." Ranger pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You have a way of putting clients at ease, too. Whether or not you accept it, you have skills that I want for RangeMan."

"Oh." I swiped under each eye as discreetly as I could. "OK, I stand corrected."

His lips quirked into a half grin. "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you have with my men, either. They used to be the biggest, meanest SOBs around, and now they're all friendly and shit."

"Oh, they're still plenty scary." I giggled. "When they're not being big softies."

He shook his head. "They're pathetic. Tank gets mani-pedis with you, and half of my men are wandering around like love-struck fools. I'm not running a dating service."

"Tank only went the once." Well, maybe it was twice, but who's counting? "And I only set up Cal and Hal." Francine's daughters were perfect for them. Little Francine had a flaming pink skull on her shoulder blade and Darla had really brought Hal out of his shell. Hal liked her kids, too.

He shook his head. "Still pathetic. Just don't let the cops see Binkie and Lester at the Build a Bear store again. It's bad for our rep."

"Yes. Sir!" I grinned, sketching a snappy salute.

"Babe." He tipped up my chin, his expression solemn. "I've offered you a place in my company and I want to make a home with you, so you know what I want. What do you want?"

_What do you want_? Such simple words but they made any frustration or anger that I was holding onto evaporate.

"I've been thinking a lot lately," I said slowly. "I know I don't want to work for Vinnie anymore and I'm getting pretty tired of chasing naked old men, but I don't think I can work full time in the office either." I blew out a breath. "I think I want to get my PI license."

Ranger's eyes widened in surprise. I smiled. "The most satisfying thing I've done lately is to track down guys who were delinquent on their child support." After I'd helped Francine and Darla, they'd referred me to several of their friends. "I didn't even sick Jimmy Rosolli after the last couple of ex-husbands. I helped the women file with the courts and the deadbeats' wages were garnished." Maybe it wasn't as satisfying to the ex-wives, but it was a hell of a lot more legal.

"I can still work half-time at RangeMan, at least until I can build up my client list. Is that OK, with you?" I asked uncertainly.

"Babe. I just want you to do something that makes you happy." His lips tilted up into a slow, lazy smile that made my hormones sit up and take notice. "If you want to negotiate, you split your time however you need to, but you take a company car and I get extra-long lunch breaks with you."

Holy ruined panties. I had a feeling they wouldn't be working lunches. "Well, I don't know what the boss would say," I said coyly, "but I've heard an after-lunch nap is very beneficial." When Ranger went to throw some bills on the table, I stopped him. "Not so fast." I smirked. "We're still negotiating."

"Babe." Translation: _You little tease._

"Oh, I'll follow through, but we're not done. I'll use one of the fleet Explorers. No Cayenne."

Ranger started to protest, but he thought better of it when I glared at him. "Fine." We'd finished, so we paid up and Ranger tucked me into his side for the walk to the back parking lot.

"What are your plans for the rest of the day, Babe?"

I bit my lower lip. "Well, Zip and I are supposed to round up a skip. It should be a quick pick-up."

"I have the time, so I could go with you." At my nod, he made a call. "I'm with Steph this afternoon. Have the open area on the first floor unlocked."

I rolled my eyes as he opened the driver's side door of the Explorer for me. "I'm going to hold a workshop on phone manners one of these days."

I pulled up in front of a sign shop a few minutes later, and passed a folder over to Ranger. "Gilbert Barkley, out on bail for aggravated assault." His mom had left the family silver to his sister and he'd expressed his displeasure by clocking her with a candlestick. "He rooms with one of Vito Grizzoli's bagmen, so I figured it was better to scoop him up at work."

I nodded toward the sign shop. "The manager dated Valerie in high school, so he agreed to cooperate."

The takedown went down smooth as silk. When I called the shop, my sister's ex sent Gilbert out to measure the SUV for a door sign. Gil spotted me and started to run, but Ranger had him subdued and cuffed before I could even go for my stun gun. I would be jealous of his abilities, but Ranger is just too freaking hot in action.

After we'd dropped the skip off at the station, Ranger pushed me up against the SUV and kissed me until my knees gave out. "God, I love to watch you work." He glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes door to door. Are you sure you don't want to work for me full time?"

I was too busy trying to catch my breath to do anything but nod.

R&S~R&S~R&S

We pulled into the RangeMan garage shortly after that, but instead of going up to seven to continue our 'negotiations', Ranger led me up to the first floor. I aimed a finger wave toward Woody, who was on lobby duty.

"Huh, I've hardly been in here," I said as I looked around at the marble and glass interior. "It's nice."

Ranger led me over to door on the far side of the elevator and ushered me inside. "This is what I wanted to show you, Babe."

We were in a sparsely furnished office suite, still painted contractor beige. I raised a questioning eyebrow as I turned from checking out the outer office.

"The main office is through there, and there's a small meeting room on the other side." He said as he guided me through the rooms.

"This is great, but why are you showing me this?"

"I'd intended to turn this into a meeting room, but never got around to it." Ranger took a deep breath. "Promise me you'll hear me out, Babe?" At my nod he continued. "When you mentioned going into investigations, I thought you might need an office."

I looked around, dumbfounded. Ranger was always three steps ahead of me. "It's great, but I'd never be able to afford the rent."

"Babe." Translation: _What part of 'no price' don't you understand?_

"Ranger." I narrowed my eyes at him. "In case you don't understand 'Burg death glare, I don't accept charity."

"Don't I know it," he muttered. "Babe, why did Francine ask you to hunt down her son-in-law in the first place?"

"Because she couldn't afford a PI – they're freaking expensive!"

He nodded. "So you were going to continue taking cases for the cost of gas money?"

My cheeks flamed. "I hadn't thought that far, but you're right, I can't charge the full rate to my target clientele." I flopped down in the lone office chair. "God, I'm such a ditz!"

Ranger lifted and nudged me around until he was in the chair and I was in his lap. "You're big hearted, but you're not a ditz, Babe. Want my thoughts?"

I nodded against his chest.

"You could set yourself up as a not-for-profit. Charge clients on a sliding scale, according to financial need. You can even take some pro-bono cases, since you won't have much overhead."

"That's great, but I still can't squat here rent-free."

"That's the beauty of it. RangeMan provides the not-for-profit with office space and IT support in exchange for a huge tax write-off." He shot me a crooked grin. "My accountant would be overjoyed."

I sat up and looked around. "It is a pretty nice office. Much nicer than that place on Stark Lula told me about."

Ranger shuddered. "Tell me you're joking."

I grinned. "You'll never know, Batman."

Ranger chuckled. "Well, it doesn't have quite the ambiance of Stark Street, but there's easy access to the street for your clients."

And it was in a secure building, monitored constantly by well-armed ex-commandos. That feature didn't escape me, either.

Ranger dropped a kiss onto my forehead. "All I want is for you to have options. Just think about it, Babe."

I burrowed into his chest and just let his words wash over me. Options. Ranger was obsessed with my safety. Four years of trackers and the Merry Men watching over me could attest to that. But he'd never once told me I was a disaster or suggested I work at the personal products factory.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine a future with Carlos. Hmmm. Occasional arguments over my junk food and exercise. His idea of a 'just because' present was a canister of pepper spray, and I was pretty sure the earrings he gave me for my birthday came with GPS. Secretly, I liked that he cared that much.

There would be a few missed dinners or holidays. My lips curved into a smile against his chest. My man was a workaholic, but he always made it up to me. There'd be lots and lots of sex. And love. No one else had ever made me feel like I was their whole world with just a look, like he could.

One thing he wouldn't do would be to clip my wings. Ranger thrived on order and routine, but he bent over backwards to give me options. He didn't seem to care that chaos followed in my wake and he got along with my crazy family. He 'got' me. We'd talked enough that I knew he wanted a partner, not a housewife. So why wasn't I grabbing everything he was offering with both hands?

I turned in the chair so I was straddling him. "OK. Are we still negotiating?"

He nodded.

"Great, then I'll conditionally accept your offer of the office space." I dropped a brief kiss on his lips to cut off any protests. "I still have to work out a business plan, and I'd insist upon better office furniture."

My lips curved into a lazy grin as I gestured toward the inner office. "I think a nice big comfy couch would look good in there – for all of those after lunch naps we'll be taking."

"Babe." His gaze went lava hot as he slid both hands under my T-shirt. Translation: _That's the best idea I've heard all day._

I swallowed a moan, and tried to stamp down my pesky hormones. Talk now. Play later. "Is your other offer still on the table? To move in with you?"

He nodded, but his expression was cautious, guarded even. I hated that I'd put that look on his face. "I wouldn't have offered if there was a chance I'd take it back."

Sweet relief. "I would like to live with you, but only if Rex is welcome."

He chuckled. "Babe, I'd counted on that. He can have his own room for all I care."

"Not necessary, but thanks anyway." My expression sobered. "I'd also insist upon buying all of the groceries."

He groaned. "Steph." Translation: _No freakin'way. I can't live off of cheese puffs and snack cakes._

I rolled my eyes. "Ella can still do the shopping, I just want to contribute to the household." When he didn't answer, I continued. "I know you won't take rent and you've just doomed yourself to keeping me in cars, which at the rate I destroy them, adds up to a whole lot of scrap metal. I just don't want to feel like a total free-loader."

"OK." His voice was quiet. "One of the first things I loved about you was your independence." He sighed. "So, OK. But I have a couple of requests, too, Babe."

I cupped his cheek and laid the mother of all kisses on him, trying to convey everything that I couldn't find words for at that moment – love, happiness, a promise to back him up as surely as he did me.

"Yes, I'll carry my gun and cooperate with you if there are ever security issues," I told him when we finally broke for air.

A wolfish grin spread over his face. "Much appreciated, Babe, but that wasn't what I was talking about."

"Oh." A spike of heat shot straight through me. "Welllll. Do those requests involve costumes or anything particularly freaky?" I asked with a mischievous grin.

Carlos smiled – a full two hundred watts that did strange things to my heart and libido. "Maybe."

I scraped my teeth over the column of his throat as I pushed his T-shirt up to expose his abs. "Then it sounds like we have a lot to negotiate, Mr. Mañoso. Why don't you show me exactly what you were thinking of?"

There were still things for us to work out, but I knew one thing without question. I wanted to spend the rest of my life negotiating with this man.

The end.

* * *

**A/N: Well, so ends this story. Thanks again to all of you who took the time to read and review my little story. The support meant a lot to me as a first time writer.**

**This story was born out of my frustration for the lack of growth in the last 15 books or so. I had a pretty simple idea – what if Stephanie listened to that little voice of reason that we all have? **

**Thanks for following along.**


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